A New Case, A New Cause
by goldnote
Summary: Basil finds himself drawn into another case, but is he able to handle what he finds? What will happen if 'he' finds Basil first? Will Basil be able to survive this one? Don't worry, it's not over yet! Rated T... FINISHED!
1. Music and Firelight

_Okay, I know that there are only two other stories for this movie, but I have loved this movie ever since I was a little kid, and I was contemplating doing a fanfic on this movie. I don't know how many people will read it, but I don't care, really, how many hits I get. It's all about the movie and what people think of my writing! So, if you read this, please review, even if it's to tell me that there are actually people reading this! Thanks and here we go!_

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Chapter One: Music and Firelight

Basil sat in his chair in front of the fire, violin in his hands, music filling the room. He didn't know what he was playing, he barely heard the notes. All Basil knew was that he needed to think.

There had been a string of crimes, mostly robberies, and the clues had led him nowhere. There was no possible way for the clues to make sense: all signs pointed to a conclusion Basil had a hard time accepting. It just wasn't logical. It didn't make sense.

All signs pointed to Ratigan.

Basil looked up from the fire, the notes ceasing from his violin. Ratigan's portrait was still there, almost a whole year after Basil had defeated the villain in the rain, hundreds and hundreds of feet above London. Basil still bore the scars of Ratigan's claws tearing at him and Basil nervously rubbed his shoulder, where the worst scar was. He remembered how much pain he had been in for weeks and weeks after that night, Dr. Dawson fixing Basil up the best he could. But, the pain he had felt... He would re-live that pain over and over again if it would get rid of the memory of Ratigan and his ruffians he left behind.

But this new string of crime. Nothing else but what Basil had would help him solve the robberies, and what Basil had pointed directly back to Ratigan. The leering face was half illuminated by the firelight, and Basil heaved a large sigh. None of this made sense. None of it. Basil started playing his violin again, the music soothing his soul for a moment or two. Then his calculating mind started working on the case again.

He would get to the bottom of this.

_

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Okay, that was the first chapter and the second one is up! Please review! Thanks!_


	2. The Penalty

_Here we go again! _

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Chapter Two: The Penalty

"Soon, it will be complete," said the voice from the shadows, directing the four ruffians through their task. The robbers were sorting through the money they had just stolen. "Soon, I will reach my goal!"

The police had chased them, but they all managed to get away, covering their tracks almost perfectly, reporting back to their master with the money. The Master had been very pleased.

"Now, not even Basil can find me! Oh, he will regret the night he-"

The Master looked over in time to see a ruffian slipping a few notes into his pocket. The Master's eyes narrowed dangerously.

The ruffian went flying across the room, hitting the wall. He slumped to the floor, rubbing his head. The other ruffians dropped the money and scurried to the other end of the chamber, shaking. When the Master was in a bad mood, it was better just to run. The Master could switch moods as easily as taking off a mask.

The glint of a bell froze them. He had gotten a new bell after that unfortunate 'accident.' No one talked about the 'accident.'

A shadow fell over the ruffian rubbing his head, a bow on the shadow's head.

As the shadows gulped and sauntered away, the three ruffians went back to their job of counting and sorting money, morale deflated. And not a cent went into their pockets, because they knew the penalty for stealing.

_

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The end of chapter two! Chapter three should be coming soon... I'm working on this mainly as a story I run to when I don't want to work on anything else... So, updating might be anywhere from hours to days to a week or two between chapters. I'm writing this all for fun! Thanks for reading and be sure to leave me a review!_


	3. Evidence That Does Nothing

_Thanks for all of the reviews so far! It means a lot when people tell me what they think or if they just have a random thought relating to the story that they want to share! I like to work on this story when I have no patience for my longer stories or if I just want to lay back and relax with some of my favorite characters! Onward with Chappie Three!_

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Evidence That Does Nothing

"It seems that there is no way around it, Basil. This is the work of your old friend, Ratigan. You said so yourself that the evidence just didn't match up with anything else you've ever seen or any other villain you've ever fought."

"But, Dr. Dawson, I have a hard time believing it."

"Then you doubt your own words?"

"Yes... It wouldn't be the first time I doubted myself. You were there that night. You were there when we saved little Olivia from that evil creature and you saw him pull me into the darkness below, falling. You didn't think I would survive."

Dr. Dawson hung his head. He did indeed remember that night. It was one of the most vivid memories in his mind. Never would he forget his heart falling with Basil as the great detective plunged to what would be certain death, if it were not for the stroke of luck that Basil clung to a functional piece of Ratigan's aircraft, pure fear causing Basil to save himself in the very end. Then, his happiness to find Basil alive and cutting through the wind and the dampness of the air to get to the small, wet group of fellow friends.

When they had gotten Basil home to Baker Street, Dr. Dawson would never forget the gashes and wounds Basil bore. He had been strong to endure so much pain, refusing the medicine that would kill his pain, determined to ride the waves of agony until the stormy sea calmed and Basil started to heal. The wounds that Basil still bore, Dr. Dawson could hardly imagine. The great detective had been very embarrassed at having been so incapacitated, at having to rely so heavily on another person, close friend or not, that Basil took care of dressing his own bandages in the end, refusing any assistance.

Dr. Dawson, at these memories, sighed and tried to look Basil in the eye. Basil, sensing the doctor's sadness, shook his head and laid a paw on his friend's shoulder, a kind smile fighting it's way to the surface of Basil's face before being pushed away once more, replaced by an intense frown. Basil resumed his pacing around the crime scene.

"Now, this bank was robbed no more than an hour ago. If we would have had Toby, we could have gotten here sooner, and pity that we were not here sooner; we could have given those scoundrels a chase! They took all they could lay their filthy paws on and ran, not caring what they left behind. Mud!"

Basil took a sample of mud using a bit of paper, folding the paper neatly and placing it in one of his numerous jacket pockets.

"An article of clothing!"

Basil picked up a hat with two fingers, holding it away from him as though it was poisonous. Dr. Dawson took it from Basil and tried not to grimace; the hat was threadbare and dirty, not to mention the smell.

"A cigarette!"

Basil wrapped this up much like he had with the mud, placing the second parcel of evidence in a pocket. He gathered up as much of the ash as possible and checked the texture and the smell, thinking in ways only geniuses and madmen think.

"Now, we go back to Baker Street. It is too late to give chase and, seeing as they made off with little money, we will let the bankers clean this mess while we compare evidence and see if this is not like anything else we have come up with yet."

"But, Basil, you know it is going to point to the same thing: Ratigan."

"I know, Dr. Dawson. I know. But, it can't be Ratigan. I saw him die. You saw him die. It can't be him."

_

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Ohh, I am looking forward to the next chapters! Don't worry, I'm not doing this whole "It's Ratigan! No, it's not!" thing because I don't know what to do. I know what is going to happen and it will be a shocker (I hope, at least. I'll put some more thought into it to make it better than planned.) Well, I hope you like it enough to read and review! Reviews are so great!_

_(Oh, for legal stuff, I don't own The Great Mouse Detective or anything related to it or that is a part of it, ect... I just own the movie... Haha!) Thanks again!_


	4. Brilliantly Bittersweet

_The next chapter is here! I woke up and had nothing to do, really, and thought I would post another chappie! Thanks for all the reviews so far and I hope to hear more from all of you! Here we go!_

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Brilliantly Bittersweet

The figure in the shadows was brooding, the faint glow of the end of a cigarette between it's fingers the only light in the chamber. The ruffians had long since left, scooting off at the first possible moment to escape the wrath of their Master. The Master was not about to have sport with them, however, and chuckled an evil laugh. How stupid they all were. They lived in fear of him, knowing that he was the one who, with the dainty ring of his new bell, could take their lives from them; he was also the only one who could protect them from the other scum of the underground. They gambled their lives to live.

He had been pleased with the amount stolen that night. What he was planning was expensive and the Master still was not sure if he had enough to cover all the costs that might arise. But, he would deal with that when the time came. Even if it wasn't about the money, they still needed a trap for Basil, something to lure him deeper and deeper into the 'case' to catch them. If Basil knew this was a ruse, the plan would fail. The figure laughed again, cringing as he heard the sound of his own voice echo off the walls and come back to him. Basil of Baker Street, the famous detective. How smart and clever and handsome and brave; the papers failed to note how headstrong he was, how arrogant, how quick to rush into danger the detective was.

There was no way Basil would escape if he treated this case like any other. There would be no way for him to squirm out of the trap. Basil would die and the Master would watch.

Basil probably thought he was on the trail to find Ratigan. How stupid of him. Ratigan was dead. He had died almost a year ago, on a cold, rainy night, falling, falling, falling... It was after Ratigan's death that he had earned his title: The Master. It was then he came into what he deserved, what he was owed after Ratigan's death. He had proved his worth after beating off the ruffians who had planned to take over after Ratigan's death, taking care of his opponents and showing his true might as a leader. In the audience chamber of Ratigan's- No, his- hideout, he had gathered the scoundrels and ruffians and all others who had come to his call, Ratigan's own beloved pet crawling in, leaving tufts of hair on the floor, meowing pitifully. He had told them of his plan, the plan for revenge on Basil and the doctor and any others that would stand in their path of rebuilding the empire Ratigan had assembled.

That night had been brilliantly bittersweet. He was furious at the death of the underground king, spitting venom, the power of his anger building and building as he addressed his new followers until the height of the speech rivaled the thunder outside, until the gleam in his eyes was nearly as bright as the lightening that cracked overhead. It was also sweet because it was the night he had been brought to power. He was now the leader, the ruler... The Master.

Tossing the cigarette on the ground and grinding it out, he stood and walked out of the chamber, no movement but the cape the Master wore swishing over the cobblestones.

_

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Scary! I wanted to slow down and set the stage a little, to give a glimpse or two inside the minds of the madmen we call Basil and the Master. I wanted to switch back and forth between calling him The Master and the Master. It really depends on how I want to use it on how I write it, so I'm doing that on purpose! ._

_Thanks for reading and please drop me a review! I love them! Happy Reading and I'll update soon!_


	5. Afraid Of The Nightmares

_Another chappie! I am starting to really get into this story. I do that sometimes: I'll get_ _really attached to a story, write a whole bunch of chapters, leave it sit for a few days, then come back to it. I don't know why, but I just think better when something is fresh. But, then I have to go back and read the previous chapters to get a feel on where I am going... Gah to that. Anyway, here I go!_

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Afraid Of The Nightmares

Dr. Dawson watched Basil pace back and forth through the study, the fire roaring and snapping as the detective walked back and forth, back and forth, searching his mind for something new. There was no reason for sleep that night, not when there was work to do. Dr. Dawson was nodding off, trying his hardest to stay awake and support Basil, but was failing at that task.

"There was nothing else to point elsewhere?"

"No. Saltwater was in the mud, and the dirt itself is a particular mix of sand and dust and earth that shows-"

Basil shook his head, cutting himself off. He heaved a sigh as he quickened back and forth across the room. His knees hurt, as did his feet, but he had no time for pain. He would think until he dropped. That was the way it must be, for Basil was obviously overlooking something. Dr. Dawson winced at the occasional cracks in his friend's joints. He was not very old, not very old indeed, but Basil was hurting himself, not allowing his poor body any rest.

"The cigarette is the type that is sold in seedy pubs. No respectable mouse would smoke them. The hat speaks for itself. The smell alone could tell me that it belongs to one of Ratigan's ruffians. I just can't believe it, old chap. There has got to be another explanation for this."

"Basil, I think it's time now to take action. If it's Ratigan, it's Ratigan. If it isn't, it just isn't and we go back to the start."

"Dawson, I've been to the start and back too many times to count! I can't just follow what the evidence says because the evidence is not correct. Ratigan died! What do I have to say to get to you believe your own memories? What do I have to show you to prove it's true? What do I have to do to get you to believe me?"

Basil, shocked at his own outburst, cast his gaze downward, staring at the carpet, unwilling to look at his wounded friend, who stood up and started to walk out of the room.

"Basil, I don't know what you have planned or what you think is right, but I know that, unless we do something, whoever this is who is causing all this crime is going to get away or come to get you. Or us. However it is, there needs to be more action than what we are taking now. Goodnight, Basil."

Dr. Dawson was surprised at his own abruptness. Never before had he questioned Basil on a case or had been so like Basil himself: short tempered and anxious. Lack of sleep was doing nothing for him and Dr. Dawson went to bed, leaving Basil alone with his thoughts for company.

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He was trapped. There was no way out. Frantically, Basil found himself at a dead end in the alley and tried to find an exit. He knew there was no escape, however, and felt his heart drop in fear. The dark shadow was coming toward him, a dagger in it's hand. The familiar voice chided Basil for being such an idiot to attempt to run away. He crunched against the wall, making himself as small as possible, anticipating the dagger's first cut into his skin. Then, realizing he was cowering like a child, Basil stood up and faced the villain, taking one last deep breath of sweet air before the dagger found it's place in his heart. He could hear the cackle as the villain knew his rival would be no more and Basil felt himself falling, never hitting the pavement, just falling forever, like a leaf in the autumn breeze...

Basil opened his eyes and took in a shuddering gasp for air. He was in his chair, the fire no more than a wisp of light trying to break through the darkness of the room. He must have fallen asleep in front of the fire. Basil remembered sitting down after the pain in his knees became too much and he had resigned himself to the fact he was weak. He must have dozed off; Basil had not wanted sleep to come to him. Every time he had let the waves of rest wash over him, the nightmares came and the pain started. The nightmares, the terrible nightmares, the visions that left him panting and sweating and trembling in the night, taking sleep and peace of mind away from him once more. It was too much for Basil.

He panicked as he felt tears pricking his eyes, tears of fear and anger. How dare he be weak enough to cry! Like a small child afraid of the night, Basil was upset at his dreams and the lack of sleep did nothing to help his nerves. Frantically, Basil wiped his eyes and stood from his chair, feeling the fatigue cut through his muscles and the detective caught himself falling, grasping the arm of the chair to keep him from hitting the ground. There was a noise that startled Basil and he realized it was the sound of a dry sob: it had come from him.

Wearily, Basil pulled himself into his chair and took control of himself. He was not about to continue acting like such a fool. He was ashamed of himself.

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He sat there the rest of the night, finally falling asleep at dawn, reassuring himself that Dr. Dawson would be awake in another hour to watch over everything. Basil kept snarling at himself, admonishing himself for being so cowardly. He was not going to admit he was afraid of the night. He was afraid of what the night brought._

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How sad, poor Basil. I've always wanted to do one of those tortured soul scenes and I found that this was the perfect place for one; sort of the calm before the storm. I liked how Dr. Dawson stuck up for himself and let himself snap a little. The stress is getting to both of them, while the villain is keeping cool. How unnerving!_

_Keep reading and let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading and a review is much appreciated! Happy Reading!_


	6. Revenge For The Cat

_I'm back! I just was really busy with some other stories the past few days and now I have a chance to work on my 'Basil story,' as I like to call it. So, I wasn't sure where to go with this when I first started working on this chapter, but hopefully everything will go well!_

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Revenge For The Cat

The cat waddled across the cobblestones, her stomach full. The call of the bell meant dinner and the animal licked her lips in satisfaction. She loved to see the mice squirm before she ate their friend, her new master nodding his head in approval of her actions.

Her fur was still falling out in clumps and, with vanity, she wondered if she was to be hairless in a matter of time. Ever since escaping the hounds of the palace that wet night, she had been sore and nervous, always on guard for dogs, flinching at the slightest noise. She had lost weight; not that it showed, but the cat knew it. She longed for her old master to come and give her a pat: he had not been afraid of her. The new master was nervous of the giant teeth she had, she could smell the fear on him although his face was as cold as ever when she was around. He called her to dispose of troublemakers. That was it.

The troublemaker this time had been a drunk mouse. She recalled all the other drunk mice she had eaten, but this one tasted the best. Maybe it had something to do with the amount of alcohol in the blood or the tenderness of the meat, but perhaps it was because the mouse had been the first meal since the last mouse the new master had given her, the ruffian that stole the money.

The taste she truly longed for was revenge.

Revenge for the old master, revenge on the dog that had chased her, revenge on the mice that had killed her master. She would tear the unfortunate creatures apart and pity on those who stood in her way. The new master knew of her blood-lust and was not going to let her near the detective and any other victims he found in relation to the old master's death until plans were set. She would be part of the revenge, for sure, but the cat wanted satisfaction now, not later, for the murder.

The cat licked her lips again and turned a corner, watching the mice glumly walk back into the hideout, following the new master. Felicia was not going to bow down to this usurper of the throne: she would accept his offerings of misbehaved ruffians, but would never support him, no matter what his relation to Ratigan was. Ratigan was and would always be the true king, no one else. She would take part in the ceremony the new master was planning once Basil and his friends were captured, but would have no part in hunting them down for the sake of the new master.

If she hunted, she would keep what she found. What she would hunt for was Basil himself. Not that night, not the next, but one night soon.

_

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I like this chapter because it shows that the cat is still loyal to Ratigan and that she won't just accept the 'new master' and his plans, but wants to go out on her own. Normally, she is pretty lazy, but if she wants something, she'll get it one way or another! I don't like this chapter because it doesn't really explain anything else but Felicia and her love for Ratigan; I was all set for another pitiful scene with Basil and his rampant feelings. But, one of those is coming up soon. I have some people for Basil to meet and some things for Basil to see, first!_

_Thanks for reading and please review! Let me know what you think! _


	7. Running Out Of Time

_Hello! Sorry it took me so long to update again! Usually, I try to get a chapter done once every day and a half and it's been a few days since Revenge Of The Cat! Thanks for all the reviews so far and onward to the story!_

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Running Out Of Time

Basil looked horrible when Dr. Dawson walked into the room, early morning light streaming in through the window by the bookshelf. Basil was in a fitful sleep, twitching and muttering under his breath, then falling silent and motionless again for a handful of minutes. Then it started again. Dr. Dawson was not shocked that Basil had not gone to bed, the great detective often staying up until the early hours of the morning, pacing back and forth. It was usually after those sleepless nights that Basil came to the conclusion of the case and everything was made right in a matter of hours. However, it didn't appear to be the case that night.

Dr. Dawson looked upon his friend in sadness. The detective had circles under his eyes, the dark smudges that peeked through the light brown fur a sign of his sleeplessness. There were several grey strands of fur, Dr. Dawson observed, not many, but just enough to show the stress Basil had been putting himself through. He was not an old mouse, not by far, but he already was greying. Silver hairs on a young mouse such as Basil was unique. But, Basil was unique. His mind was sharp and lightening quick, his reasoning skills beyond the normal aptitude of any mouse. His body was taking the brunt of the force the mind gave off, and it was hurting Basil, although Dr. Dawson knew Basil wouldn't admit anything.

The violin lay beside the chair, the bow near Basil's twitching hand. The music he could make was worthy of any concert hall, the music better and better the harder Basil had to think. But it had been many days since the instrument had been used and Basil was in need of a good practice session. The sound that came from the strings was heartbreaking, the true proof Basil was a musician at heart. Dr. Dawson always found himself at ease when Basil was performing, often sitting in his room, a book on his lap, listening to the music coming from the main room. He would open the door and walk down the hallway to see Basil, the firelight gleaming off his fur, a fire burning in his eyes strong enough to rival the fire in the pit, strains of music floating through the air to vanish in a matter of moments.

Dr. Dawson picked up the blanket that lay in a heap on the floor at Basil's feet and placed it gently over his friend, taking a note of his shivering. There was time enough until the sun would fully come through the window, the great golden orb not yet rising enough to cast warmth on the world. He would go and prepare breakfast after changing, the housekeeper still in bed herself. Making food was Basil's equivalent of making music; it helped Dr. Dawson think. He made his way to his room, changing, setting books back on their shelves; he had been reading histories the previous night after his exchange of words with Basil. As he did this, he thought he was imagining the faint sounds of a song, a violin softly playing a melancholy tune.

Basil was awake and thinking. Dr. Dawson, despite his happiness that Basil was now awake and performing again, was anxious. Now was not the time for music, really, now was the time for action. Basil needed to think faster, because the villain was not far behind: Dr. Dawson could tell they were running out of time.

_

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Sorry this last chapter was so short and went no where. I want to look into the mind of Dr. Dawson at least once before I start with all the action chapters. Within the next two chapters (maybe even the next one) there is going to be some action and villainy that Basil will have to deal with. For the moment, I feel like Basil: unwilling to do anything else at the moment for lack of proper thought. But, I like this chapter because we get to see Dr. Dawson's point of view. I love to take time for all my characters (well, I don't own them, but I call them mine for sentimental reasons) to have their say in what is going on. I figure that, if I was a character, I would like at least one chapter to myself!_

_Thanks and please review! I really appreciate them! Thanks for reading! I'll update soon! (Hopefully sooner than later!)_


	8. The Raid

_Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. To tell you all the truth, I was starting to get a little bored with it. I like to start on one chapter and then write a whole bunch more chapters for a story all in one sitting because then, if I get bored later with the story, I have back up chapters to post. I think I am just going to cut to the chase and get on with the plot instead of looking into everyone's mind. I am going to do a Toby-introspective chapter later, seeing as we already did Basil, the Master, Felicia, and Dr. Dawson. I think everyone just wants to find out who the villain is and read some action! I don't like getting bored with stories and so if I rush myself to a point where I am comfortable again, the writing gets better! Onward!_

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The Raid

The raid had been carried out extraordinarily quick.

The Master's ruffians broke down the door and rushed into Basil's house, Felicia waiting outside, furious she couldn't join in on the fun of seeing Basil's face as the scoundrels captured him.

Dr. Dawson had been sitting in an armchair across from Basil that fateful night, barely a week after Basil started to play his violin again. He had been sipping on a cup of tea, reading a history book, enjoying himself immensely in the fact that he was in the warmth of the cozy little house instead of out in the rain. The rain had been falling quite heavily, the fat drops of rain sliding down the windows, distorting any image outside, the shadows of the ruffians and Felicia if Dr. Dawson would have bothered to look out the window at all.

Basil had been playing the violin, the sweet notes coming from the instrument masking the sounds of the ruffians outside, their voices much too loud. If Basil would not have been engrossed in his own self pity, his sharp senses would have heard the click of Felicia's nails on the cobblestones. But, gazing into the fire, occasionally glancing up at the portrait of Ratigan with a cold grimace, Basil was much to engaged in his own thoughts to care about the action that was happening outside, the plot that was about to be carried out.

The ruffians broke down the door, as mentioned earlier, yelling and making noise to startle the two targets of their Master's plan. Dr. Dawson was struck over the head with the pole one of the scoundrels had, the ruffian sneaking up behind his chair and smacking the poor doctor while he was unaware of what exactly was going on: they broke in that fast. They left the doctor in his chair, unconscious, not enough people to carry his weight out the door until they took care of Basil.

Basil, realizing too late that the ruffians of his new nemesis were invading his home, was dragged from his chair, the violin falling to the floor with a twang of strings. Basil struck out at them, and he felt his fist make contact with more than one, but there were to many for Basil to fight all alone. One of the scoundrels tied a rag doused with chloroform around Basil's mouth and the detective felt himself falling into darkness.

_

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Short chapter, yes, but there was more I was going to add on that I decided to keep as a separate chapter. I want to shorten the chapters again to about the length I had them in the first two or three chapters, so that what I am working on. Please tell me what you think and thank you for reading (and a thank you for your review!)_


	9. A Ride In The Rain

_Sorry I have not updated in awhile. As I said, I work on this story when I need to break the boredom and there has not been much of that lately. Here we are! (P.S. The violin didn't break! )_

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A Ride In The Rain

Dr. Dawson came to when he realized he was clutching the fur of something that was moving, his hands and feet bound, rain pummeling his face. Opening his eyes, he saw that the clump of fur he held was one of only a handful of tufts of fur the animal still owned and that the smell the doctor now became aware of was coming from the ruffians in front of him, two of them hanging onto the animal's collar. Looking down, he saw other scoundrels walking alongside the animal, that was sauntering at an easy pace. He could hear the voices of the ruffians swearing at the animal, telling it to go faster, but the animal simply lashed it's tail around in disgust, taking her own time. Becoming nauseous, Dr. Dawson lay back down on the animal, thankful for the bit of horrid warmth that came from it's fur.

He knew the wound on his head was not very serious, although it would require a stitch or two along the forehead where a ruffian had caught him by surprise. At least the blood was starting to dry and there seemed to be no other wounds beside the stiffness accompanying bruising. What was going on? What was the last thing he remembered? He recalled sitting there, contemplating getting another cup of tea, when something had struck in in the head and everything was dark. As his vision failed, he recalled the look of terror on Basil's face, the music ceasing on the violin.

Basil! Where was he?

He heard a groan, and Dr. Dawson looked on his other side, the side that didn't bring his vision down to the ground beneath the animal's feet. Basil was there, sitting upright, bound. His hands were bleeding, his fur matted with wounds and the blood that had been spilled as a result. His eyes were almost swollen shut, his whiskers crimped and broken. There was a large gash on the side of his cheek and his clothes were ripped. The gag covering his mouth was falling down his chin, but Basil didn't seem to be in the mood to talk.

"Basil?" hissed Dr. Dawson, afraid of drawing the attention of one of the ruffians that were guarding their prisoners. "Basil!"

Basil didn't move a muscle to speak, only one ear twitching in sign that he had heard Dr. Dawson.

"Basil, are you badly hurt?"

The detective did nothing but sigh gently and bow his head, his chin touching his chest. Basil looked like he was about to collapse, but Dr. Dawson knew Basil wouldn't allow himself to do that. As beaten as Basil looked on the outside, the doctor supposed Basil's mind was doing some quick thinking. The doctor couldn't help but be a little discouraged as Basil's head drooped lower, his shoulders slumping before the ropes pulled him back up. The ruffians had tied him in such a way that the detective couldn't rest without putting weight on the ropes that held him upright. The doctor supposed that ever inch Basil drooped, his arms were pulled higher and higher until it was undoubtedly painful.

"What'ch ya talkin' for, scum?" snarled one of the ruffians before Dr. Dawson felt a stinging pain in his head once more, falling into darkness, the rain covering him like a blanket that brought no warmth.

_

* * *

Poor Basil. At this point, I feel sorry for Dr. Dawson, too. Please tell me what you think. Sorry this is such a depressing chapter. They are not going to get much better for a little while, so if you don't like sadness and action involving battle, then this might not quite be for you, but check back in a few chapters when The Master's identity will be revealed and Basil and Dawson have to escape for their lives along with the sake of someone they also meet during their captivity. You'll like her! Please review and thanks again!_


	10. A Fellow Prisoner

_Here is the next chapter! I want to start to introduce the new character in this one... I'm not sure how she is going to develop, but I want everything to pick up pace. Here we go!_

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A Fellow Prisoner

Roughly, they were thrown in a gloomy cell, nothing but shadows surrounding them. The ruffians laughed as Dr. Dawson grunted in pain; the rocks were painfully hard under him and his elbows felt skinned. Basil made no sound, sighing deeply as he hit the ground next to the doctor.

The cell they had arrived in was small, hardly a room, and it smelt of wet straw and damp clothes. There was a drip of water somewhere and Dawson could see nothing but the faint light of the moon when the clouds parted occasionally, casting enough light just so the bars over the little window of the door cast their own shadow over the prisoners. The stones were like ice and Dr. Dawson couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

"Oh, Basil, what dreaded place have we arrived in?" moaned the doctor, struggling to sit up; his hands and feet were still bound and he felt woozy after the ride on the animal to the prison, the lack of movement throwing him off.

The sound of a match being struck ripped through the silence and a flash of light illuminated the surroundings. A candle was lit, and then another, before the match was blown out, tendrils of smoke billowing throughout the room. Dr. Dawson was startled and even Basil, who could hardly see through of one of his eyes for the swelling, looked up in shock.

A mouse stood there, a small, petite figure dressed in hardly more than rags. The whiskers were slightly rumpled like Basil's were, as if the mouse had been in a fight similar to their own. There was a slight smell of mint as the mouse bent down next to Dr. Dawson and brought a knife out of some hidden spot, the blade flashing. Dr. Dawson cringed and was about to cry out for Basil until he felt the ropes falling from his hands and feet. The mouse had cut them free. Dr. Dawson looked over and saw the mouse doing the same for Basil, cutting him free of his bonds before slipping the dagger back into it's hiding spot.

"Who are you?" asked Dr. Dawson indigently. "Why are we here? Men of honor introduce themselves!"

"I am not a man," came a smooth, high voice as the figure stepped into the light. It was a lady mouse, her large eyes shining, her pale fur ruffled. Dr. Dawson instantly felt regret at snapping at her.

"My deepest apologies, madame. I did not know-"

"Apparently not!" she said, slightly indignant herself as she took a candle from the crate across the room and walked to Basil's side. The detective had been struggling to a sitting position, but Dr. Dawson could see his shaking all the way across the cell. "You don't know who you are talking to."

"I am talking to a woman, who has no right to be a prisoner! What evil scheme does Ratigan have in place for us? How long have you been here?"

"Almost a day, maybe two. You lose track of time easily alone in the dark."

"But, you have candles-"

"-that won't last forever. These are the only two I found."

"Along with that dagger?"

"This was my own long before I came here. Come help me with him."

Dr. Dawson crept to Basil's side as the lady took Basil's jacket off, unbuttoning his shirt. Dr. Dawson felt himself blush. This woman could be no more than a young lady, barely of age to be on her own, and here she was, undressing the detective with a steely look in her eye.

"I don't suppose you have any medical experience, or you would know that I am simply trying to get to his wounds," chastised the young lady to Dr. Dawson, who blushed deeper as she insulted him.

"I am a doctor, madame, trained and certified. I know that you only plan to-"

"Then be quiet and help me dress his wounds."

There was a rip of fabric as the young lady ripped the hem of her dress into several bandages for Dr. Dawson to use and the doctor did his best in fixing Basil up, who had slipped into unconsciousness once more.

_

* * *

Here we are! Who is she, you are probably wondering, who is she? Well, you'll find out in the next chapter! Please read and review! Thanks so much!_


	11. I'm Surprised You Don't Remember Me

_Hehehe... Here we go! Sorry about the shortness, but I want this to be a sort of interlude..._

* * *

"I'm Surprised You Don't Remember Me..."

The sound of the dripping water was driving Dr. Dawson to madness. It had been silent for what he guessed was an hour or so; he couldn't check for sure, his pocket watch had been broken in the scuffle. The young lady was in the corner by Basil, who was laying on the straw, asleep. His breathing was still shallow, but not as fast as before, and Dr. Dawson knew Basil wouldn't suffer any long term injuries. The lady was staring at Basil, a stare that had thoughts swarming behind it, a stare that meant she was thinking heavily.

"Madame, are you hurt?" Dr. Dawson asked, as he caught glimpse of her arm. One of the sleeves was missing off the dress she wore, the arm with the sleeve gone wrapped in a bandage near her shoulder. She snapped to attention, thoughts broken.

"Madame, did I alarm you?"

"It does not matter. No, I'm not hurt."

He could tell she was lying because there was the faint mark of a bloodstain through the fabric, but Dr. Dawson didn't want to push the subject.

"I noticed your dress is made out of silk, not the proper bandage material, and-"

"Silk is all I have on, doctor. I had no other choice."

"But to ruin that pretty dress-"

"A pretty dress doesn't matter when someone is in danger. I would take the silk for anything right now. A blanket, a bit of bread, another candle..."

Her voice drifted off and it was silent once more. The silence continued for several minutes until the young lady spoke again.

"His scar, here," she mentioned, pulling back the corner of Basil's shirt to expose the wound Ratigan had made, the deepest bodily wound Basil had suffered that fateful night with Ratigan. "Where is this from?"

"He did battle with Ratigan, the wretch that is keeping us here," answered Dr. Dawson bitterly. He was not pleased when the young woman laughed, a laugh full of misplaced mirth.

"You should know better than anyone that Ratigan is dead. I read the papers, I was there that night the Queen awarded the medals for heroic deeds. You might have even seen me there. It is not Ratigan that holds us captive."

She pulled Basil's shirt back into place and tried to straighten one of his bent whiskers, her fingers delicate and tapered. Dr. Dawson thought hard. He did remember that night, being awarded by the Queen herself, but he could not place her face.

"I'm surprised you don't remember me, doctor. I was surprised I was not part of the plot for Ratigan to take over Mousedom. I think it was by pure luck I was not in London that night..."

"Who are you? Who are you, that you wear silk and have a hidden dagger and claim to remember us?"

Dr. Dawson was getting frustrated with the games the young lady was playing.

"Why, I am the Princess, the Queen's daughter."

_

* * *

Oh, plot twist! Hehehe... I'll update soon, okay? Thanks for reading and leave me a review, please! (My plot bunnies are working on the next chapter!)_


	12. The Master Has Another Name

_This is the chapter, the one you've all been waiting for! We now find out who the villain is. If you were expecting anything grandiose or a huge shocker, then you might or might not be happy with this. I knew who the villain was since I started the story and I was going to put off his true identity until later but, due to popular demand, The Master's face is revealed here!_

_Here we go!_

* * *

The Master Has Another Name

Dr. Dawson was woken up by the sound of the cell door creaking open. In the darkness, he struggled to sit up; he had fallen asleep on a bit of the molding straw that lay scattered on the floor, exhaustion overcoming disgust. He saw the shadows of ruffians walk into the room, and heard the young lady scream before her voice was muffled.

"Your highness, where are you?"

Dr. Dawson knew it sounded foolish to call her by her formal title when they could now be in some mortal peril, but he wasn't going to be rude. After he had found out she was actually the princess of Mousedom, Dr. Dawson could have hit himself in the head, if it were not for the fact that it already pounded and throbbed in pain. How could he not know his own princess?

He felt rough hands grab his arms and pull him to his feet, the smell of cigar smoke filling his nostrils, making him sneeze.

"Come on, now, fatty. Get up. Don't you blow spit on me!"

Dr. Dawson felt the rough hands pull him forward and fear overtook the doctor's urge to hit the ruffian over the head with his broken pocket watch. He could see Basil being led away, also, and heard the Princess's muffled cries as she was tossed over the shoulder of one of the scoundrels.

"Where are you taking us?"

"That's for you to find out, fatty. Come on!"

* * *

They emerged from the cell and walked down a short alley before entering the cobblestone courtyard. This place was all too familiar. A green bottle lay alone in one corner, dejected and dusty. Across from it was a grate, water running into it, making an awful slushing noise. And right in front of him was the large barrel that was Ratigan's hideout, the tattered drapes still hanging, the wood still rotting away. One thing disturbed Dr. Dawson, however. Instead of the golden R in the red circle above the doorway, there was an I.

This was no longer Ratigan's hideout, but what the ruffian's had termed The Master.

He was led into the barrel, tripping up the steps in the ruffian's haste. Behind him, he could catch glimpses of a pink skirt moving and the doctor could hear the Princess's indignant cries, her mouth covered still by a scoundrel's hand. No noise came from Basil, but it was apparent he was not being carried; Basil was at least walking on his own.

The prisoners were brought over to one wall of the extravagantly decorated room and manacled, chains already attached to the wall. Dr. Dawson's right hand was chained and, as he looked over, he could see that Basil's right hand was also attached to the cuff and chains. The princess, fighting with all her strength, bit the paw of the ruffian holding her, and he roughly slapped her as another scoundrel bound her to the chains.

"Come now, we don't want our prisoners any worse for wear, now, do we?"

A silky voice came from the front of the room and the three prisoners looked up, holding their breath. From the shadows emerged a cowled figure, slightly larger than the average mouse, whiskers wide and black. It walked over to them and Dr. Dawson tried to resist the urge to cower under it's foul smelling breath. It passed over him to the princess, looking her over once before moving on to Basil. Basil tried to look as fearless as possible, but his bruises, wounds, and crimped whiskers didn't give that impression. The figure in dark robes walked swiftly to the throne in front of the room and sat down, crossing it's legs, never taking off the hood.

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" asked Basil as defiantly as possible, voice never cracking.

"I thought you would have figured it out by now," came the cruel voice. "After all, are you not Basil of Baker Street?" The figure laughed, the sound hollow, it's shoulders shaking in a mirthless chuckle. The princess snorted and the doctor clenched his fists. Basil stood straight and proud, ignoring the pain his battered body felt.

The figure finally whipped off his cloak and hood and grinned, eyes narrowed.

"After all, I _am_ Ratigan's son: Isadore."

_

* * *

Oh! There you go. The Master now has a proper name. Isadore. (I just liked the name, that was all... I was trying to come up with something before I realized I had a small notebook full of random thoughts and ideas, as well as interesting names I have come across. I glanced through it and thought Isadore would be nice... or as nice as an evil villain's name could be!)_

_Please leave me a review and tell me what you have to say! I'll update soon! I can't wait to spill all the secrets to the story and get the action going! Thanks for reading!_


	13. The Plan

_Sorry I haven't been updating lately... Just a lot of stuff going on! Hehe, well, anyway, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it! Leave me a review and tell me what you think! Thanks._

* * *

The Plan

"Ratigan's son!" exclaimed Dr. Dawson, taken aback by the news. "But, Ratigan didn't have a son!"

"Because you didn't know about me means I didn't exist?" asked Isadore, throwing his hands up in the air in disgust. "I am Ratigan's son and I took over after his death. You killed my father, you and Basil both did! Now, I brought you here to avenge my father's death, so I can do what he could not do: destroy his nemesis, Basil of Baker Street!"

Dr. Dawson looked to Basil for some sort of reaction to the news; Basil stood there, straight as a board, not a whisker trembling. The princess stood next to him, fear in her eyes, but as motionless as the detective himself.

Isadore stood from his throne and walked slowly to the group. Dr. Dawson watched The Master saunter toward them, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What do you have in plan, Isadore?" asked the doctor, trying to put as much malice into his voice as possible, his voice cracking as The Master pulled out a shinning dagger and waved it under Dr. Dawson's nose.

"You will address me from now on as Master if you want to live to see another day. I have a plan, a plan that will tower above all else my father did. He tried to take over Mousedom by getting rid of the Queen herself. He was foiled by you two. If I tell you anything else, I know that you and your meddlesome friend will just ruin it for me."

"So it is death for us and the princess?"

"No, doctor, not for all of you: just one of you will survive. You and Basil will be alive just long enough to watch me take over all of Mousedom... by marrying the princess and becoming the king!"

Basil lunged toward The Master, his fingertips hardly touching Isadore's jacket before he was pulled back by the chains on the wall. Dr. Dawson gasped and Basil, the burst of fury taking what little energy he had away from his feeble body, panted and nearly stumbled. The princess caught a hold of his shoulders and pulled Basil back, supporting him.

"How precious," crooned Isadore, sounding much like his father. "The princess and the detective and the doctor, all looking out for one another! Oh, if my father could see this..."

"Why would you rob banks, though?" asked Dr. Dawson, trying to get every motive down in his mind for later; he was amazed at his own nerve.

"To pay for the wedding! You wouldn't know, but wedding's are expensive and I couldn't let my bride's family pay for everything!" Isadore was sarcastic as he said this and leered at the princess, her whiskers twitching in anger. "And for the funerals, of course," the Master added. "After being my guests at the wedding, I am afraid you won't be around much longer. Take them away."

The last part was directed at the ruffians, who had just crept back into the room.

Isadore turned and walked away as the three prisoners were taken back to their cell, satisfied his evil plan was in place.

_

* * *

What do you think! I couldn't resist writing a wedding into the plot line. Don't worry, a wedding will happen! Hehe... I'm going to have the princess give a little girl power to the story; I love it when the girl helps save the day! Anyway, please tell me what you think and thanks for reading!_


	14. Basil And The Princess

_I was bored, so I thought I would work on this story! This is what this story is for, after all! _

* * *

Basil And The Princess

They sat alone in their cell, the doctor, the detective, and the princess.

Neither of them knew how long ago they had met The Master, nor how long they were going to be in that awful, rancid cell, but they all knew that they needed sleep. Food was delivered twice a day, the princess said, and although it consisted only of bread and water, at least the bread wasn't molding and the water tainted. Ratigan apparently wanted his captives alive and in relatively good health for the "wedding."

Dr. Dawson had fallen asleep, his light snores proving he was in a deep sleep, and Basil did not want to wake him. The good doctor had watched out for Basil for so long, he deserved much more sleep than Basil supposed he would get. He himself was sore and exhausted, but his mind was working too fast to shut down now. His body hurt, every wound the scoundrels inflicted burning and aching, dried blood pulling at his fur. He nervously rubbed his shoulder where the scar was. The princess, in her corner, looked up.

"Why do you do that? I asked the doctor about the scar, but I didn't know it still pained you, despite all the other injuries," the princess asked. Basil didn't look up at her as he replied, "I do not wish to speak about it at the moment."

The princess cast her eyes down, her fingers entwined in her lap. Her pale fur shone in the faint light coming from between the bars and Basil sighed.

"Come over here," he said. The princess looked back at the detective, who was becoming impatient. "Come here!" He snapped, and the young lady crawled to his side, reaching across him to light a candle.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" she asked, a bit upset at being treated like that. "People usually don't snap at me like that."

"I know you are a princess. I remember your face when your mother awarded Dr. Dawson and myself medals of honor for disposing of Ratigan. I have to admit I don't remember your name."

"It's Anna," the princess replied softly.

"Anna," repeated Basil, his voice quiet. He rubbed his shoulder again and winced.

"Are you going to be alright?" Anna asked Basil. Basil ignored her and she touched his shoulder tentatively. He grabbed her wrist in a flurry of movement and Anna gasped as he tightened his grip before realizing what he was doing.

"I apologize, your highness," Basil said, voice hardly more than a whisper. "I just, I don't- It hurts, you see, and I can't- When you-"

"I understand, I'm sorry," the princess muttered, biting her lip and looking at her wrist. There were marks in her fur where Basil had gripped too hard and she tried to rub them out. He took her hand.

"I didn't harm you, did I? Let me see."

Basil looked her wrist over, feeling the little bones of her hand. He deeply regretted not controlling his anger. He kissed it gently, and put it back in her lap, Anna keeping her eyes downcast. Basil tried to look into her face.

"What would you like to know about me?"

"I was just curious about your wound. I didn't want it to hurt you. I wanted to know if I could help fix it."

"There is nothing that will fix this."

Anna and Basil sat together in silence for a few moments before Anna spoke.

"I should go back to the corner; I had a bed over there and-"

"No," Basil said. "Stay here. You can sleep over here."

"Oh, thank you, I suppose."

"I think we should blow out the light."

The detective turned and, with a whisper of breath, extinguished the flame. The princess hesitantly leaned her head against Basil's arm, feeling the silk bandage she had tore from her own dress against her cheek. She could feel Basil sigh and felt her own eyes droop.

Eventually, Basil was left alone in the darkness, the waves of sleep hardly lapping at his feet, although he desperately wanted sleep to wash over him, to take away the troubles that faced him. He had to figure out a way to save himself and the doctor from the cell.

And the princess from the fate that awaited her.

_

* * *

There we are, another chappie! Please tell me what you think. Yes, I am setting up a romance between Anna and Basil, but it's for good reason, not just for a mindless extra plot line. Thanks and review! Happy Reading! I'll update soon!_


	15. Taken Away

_Enjoy and leave me a message on how you liked it! (If you didn't like it, let me know, too! )Yes, another chapter! I was wondering how to go about this, but I think I have it right. Thanks!_

* * *

Taken Away

Dr. Dawson opened his eyes, stretching silently. Sleeping on straw wasn't comfortable, especially if it smelled like dirt and was molding. He was sore all over, the previous night being very uncomfortable, his body unaccustomed to such hard work as trying to survive. On top of trying to save himself from the Master, know found to be Ratigan's own son, he had a princess to worry about, Basil probably too busy to keep an eye on her himself. He looked around the cell for her, his eyes becoming accustomed to the dim light, his mouth opening wide in shock as he found them.

She was leaning against Basil, who was propped up in the opposite corner of the cell, his chin resting on his chest. The princess had her head resting on his arm, one hand on his forearm, her eyes closed in a deep sleep. Her whiskers were white and smooth for the most part, contrasting sharply with Basil's whiskers, which were still crumpled like a butterfly's wings before it tries to take it's first flight. There were dark circles under both of their eyes and several of Basil's bandages had bled through, the thin silk a poor material for a bandage.

Never had Basil allowed contact with anyone, making it obvious he disliked being touched unnecessarily. Even Dr. Dawson felt a little hurt when Basil frowned as Dr. Dawson patted his arm or even walked too close by his side. Basil didn't like to be bothered and here the two were, the princess resting on the detective and the detective not caring. Dr. Dawson smiled. If he dare think it, Basil didn't mind the princess's company all that much.

They rested in the puddle of sunlight that streamed in through the bars of the cell door, the tiny window on top of the door letting in just enough light that warmed the the princess and the detective, Dr. Dawson noticed, trying to ignore the stabs of pain that his stomach now felt. He was hungry, and he blushed as the detective, who had always been a light sleeper, groaned and opened his eyes, glancing around the room once before finding the doctor in the corner.

"Good morning, old chap," Basil muttered, sighing. "We're still here, are we?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Basil."

Basil seemed to just then noticed the slumbering princess and he jumped slightly, causing the young lady to stir, but not to awake. Dr. Dawson could have laughed when he saw Basil roll his eyes and make a move to wake the princess up, but then leaned back against the stone wall, sighing again. Basil shot Dr. Dawson a look of warning as a chuckle escaped his lips, the doctor apologizing immediately.

"Let her sleep just a little longer," Basil said softly, looking as if he was going to fall back asleep himself. "In dreams, we can escape the world we are confined to, and we deserve much more than a musty cell in a den of criminals."

Dr. Dawson nodded and muttered softly, "I'll keep watch."

He didn't think Basil heard him, however, for the detective had drifted back into a fitful sleep, his head dropping onto the princess's head, the light dimming as storm clouds covered the sunlight, the air smelling of rain.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

Dr. Dawson's voice woke Basil and the detective heard the cell door swinging open with a squeal of rusty hinges. He felt something warm being pulled away from him and opened his eyes to find three ruffians in the cell, two of them holding onto the princess and dragging her out the door.

"No, you stays here," said one of the ruffians, pushing Basil back as the detective stood and tried to grab the princess's hand, the young lady waking up and realizing what was happening.

"Where are you taking her?" Dr. Dawson demanded as Basil fell against the crate, knocking over the candles and cracking the wood. The ruffians laughed as the princess tried to put up a fight, kicking and scratching.

"Basil!" she cried, her grip on the door weakening and finally failing as the ruffians pulled her away. Basil opened his eyes in time to see her looking back at him, her eyes wide and full of fear. The detective scrambled to his feet and ran to keep the door open, only to have it slam in his face only moments before he reached it.

"What are we going to do? What is going to happen to the poor girl?" asked the doctor, his voice shaking as he went to his friend, who pounded his fists against the door, his face full of anguish as the pain came back to him.

He had lost her and didn't know what was going to happen next.

_

* * *

Sorry if this was really angst-y. I wanted it to be really dramatic at the end. I feel really guilty for giving the characters so much pain to deal with, then giving them something comforting, only to have that taken away. I feel so bad for them, but I'm the author and I have to be a little mean to have a great story. (I'll go and take care of my guilt by cooking; that always makes me feel better, although I burn everything by mistake...)_

_Please tell me what you think and leave me a review! I love every review I've gotten so far; thank you all so much!_


	16. A Task For The Dog

_Sorry about the lack of updates! I've been really busy with general stuff and I have not had much time for writing! But, here I go with another chapter. I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story! I'm surprised at how many chapters have already stacked up! They all just flew by! Enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

A Task For The Dog

Toby was tired and the master's rug was just so soft and inviting, but the dog couldn't go to sleep. Not now, though, when his other master was gone.

Usually Basil came to visit Toby once every day or two, never going longer than three days without seeing his faithful hound. It had been three days and Toby was getting worried. There was no mistaking the absence, no way for the dog to forget the last time Basil had visited. They had not had any serious cases that had called for Toby and he was getting sick and tired of sleeping. He had grown a bit fatter since the last great adventure, and a little grayer around the muzzle, but otherwise Toby was still up for a good chase!

His human master was leaving, turning off the lights after him, his companion calling to him from the hallway. The door shut, leaving Toby in darkness. He disliked that; the master didn't even keep the fire going anymore. The dog found himself pacing back and forth, anxious. Basil wouldn't be gone for this long without telling him first. Unless something happened. But then Dr. Dawson would be there, to give Toby news. The doctor never arrived.

Toby could tell his other master was in trouble and knew he needed to do something about it. But what? He couldn't very well escape the apartment through a window. He was a dog. Surely Basil would come to visit him that night.

But no one arrived.

* * *

By the time the master got home with his companion, Toby had made up his mind. He waited by the door and then dashed out between the master's legs, baying as he skittered down the hallway, his claws skittering against the floor. The master ran after him, but stopped the chase, calling after him angrily. Toby knew his master; the dog had at least an hour or two before the master and his companion caught him again, at least an hour to two to be free.

Toby needed to find Basil.

_

* * *

Sorry about the short chapter. I figured that I needed to introduce him now so I have him for later on and to give a break between all the drama so I can start building up again! Longer chapter next time! Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think!_


	17. Isadore And Anna

_Hello! Sorry that the story has been on the back burner for a little while; like I said, it's my story for when I get bored and I have not been very bored the past few days! So much to do! Haha! Well, here is another chapter! I hope you like it! I love scenes like this, with the villain and the heroine. It's just great... Thanks very much and please leave me a review! _

* * *

Isadore And Anna

Anna struggled with the ruffians until the cell was out of sight, deciding that she had other things to do and wouldn't waste her energy trying to get away. Anna knew there was no escape that would keep her alive; there was a cat somewhere, and Anna wasn't going to take chances with teeth twice her size.

The ruffians sneered and make crude remarks, their grip on her wrists and shoulders tight. Anna bit back the words on her tongue and tried to breathe in and out deeply, ignoring the pain and fear that threatened to consume her. She still had the dagger in it's hiding place, on her hip under her skirt. It had always been there, the princess carrying around protection wherever she went, just for situations like this.

She just thought a situation like this would never come around.

* * *

The ruffians threw her into a room, chuckling to themselves and dusting off their paws, the last scoundrel out the door shutting the doors behind him. Anna found herself on the floor of the room, laying on a rug that was comforting and soft after sitting on the hard stone and flat straw the cell had to offer. Raising herself up, Anna glanced around the room.

Half the room was cast into shadows, everything poorly lit. She could see gleaming jewels on one end of the room, a case resting on a small table full to the brim with glittering things. There were drapes covering the walls and a fireplace lay dormant, no fire lit. There were several chairs and couches in the middle of the room, all of them looking as if they came from the palace themselves, luxuries too grand to be found in the den of a master villain.

Anna stood up and ran to the door, pulling and pushing on the handles with all of her strength, causing such a racket of clanging hardware that she never heard the footsteps behind her.

"Welcome, princess," came the voice of the villain in her ear.

Anna whipped around, finding herself trapped between the hulking, ugly mass of The Master and the cold wood of the doors. She braced herself on the handles, holding her breath.

"Speechless? I don't see why not," Isadore crooned. "After all, what is there to be said about such a glorious wedding we will have?'

"There will be no wedding, Isadore," snapped Anna, regaining control of herself and putting on a defiant air. "I will never marry you!"

"Oh, don't be so sure," The Master said, delighted that he still heard a touch of fear in her voice. "I have ways to make you obey, princess, and I know that you-"

"What if we were to make a deal, Isadore?" Anna asked, pushing past the villain to walk to the center of the room, keeping the furniture between them. "What if I were to give you power and riches and absolute authority without having to marry me?"

The Master was silent for a few moments, contemplating this suggestion. Anna was set to flee if he were to rush toward her suddenly, but he simply turned and went to the fireplace, sparking a flame that grew into a roaring fire that threw light upon the walls and the floor, making the shadows even more pronounced. The Master stood silhouetted in the firelight before he went and sat on one of the large couches.

"Tell me more about this, Anna," Isadore said, drawing her name out mockingly. "Convince me that getting married is not the only way for me to get what I want. Come now, all you are doing is trembling. Don't deny it, I can see you shake. Sit down."

Anna took a seat in a chair across from him, clenching her paws into fists.

"I could give you all I said if you would simply let me go. If I were to be set free and returned safely to the palace, my mother would give you anything you desired. We could set a deal on how much you would get and how far your rule would reach in Mousedom and then we would not-"

"But, that doesn't seem very fair, does it?" Isadore asked sweetly, resting one leg on top of the other, waving a hand nonchalantly in the air. "If I were to accept this deal, I would only get limited amounts of what I want, with strings attached, I'm sure. If I were to marry you, I would, by law, be heir to everything in Mousedom, nothing to stand in my way after that. Don't try to fool me, princess."

Anna didn't let her disappointment show. He was smarter than she had thought he would be when faced with such a tempting offer.

"Wouldn't you hate to have a wife?" Anna asked, trying to convince Isadore that taking her paw in marriage would be a poor choice. "I would still have more power over you because I am of royal blood and you are not. I would still hold all the-"

"Anna, Anna," clucked Isadore, standing up and walking over to the chest of beautiful gems and jewelry, his back to her. She made to stand up, but though better of it as she saw his back stiffen. "It is not just power and riches I crave. Have you forgotten my quest for revenge? The ruffians tell me everything, you know? My henchmen have eyes on you in that cell, watching... They tell me of how the icy detective has warmed up to the princess, how he let her cling to him in the darkness of night, how he found solace in knowing she was there."

Isadore chuckled softly to himself as the poetic words floated to Anna's ears, tainted with poison. He walked behind her, behind the back of the chair and placed a pearl necklace around her neck, hesitating to clasp it as he continued.

"I am out to destroy everything Basil of Baker Street loves. I am going to take away everything that he ever did, anything that was important to him-"

The necklace became threateningly tighter around Anna's throat.

"I'm going to take away anyone he ever loved."

The necklace was loosened and clasped, the string of pearls now around Anna's neck for good as Isadore walked back to the fireplace, taking up a poker and placing it in the fire, turning it around until it because blazing hot.

"Do you know what I am going to do with anyone who stands in my way?" asked Isadore, nearly snarling as he slowly advanced on Anna with the flaming poker in his hand, lighting the way from the fire to her chair like some torch. Anna's eyes got wide and she cringed in her chair. Suddenly, with a streak of light and a rustle of cape, Isadore whipped around and jammed the poker into a portrait, burning a hole in the middle of it before throwing the poker at the fireplace, the poker landing on the stone apron around the fireplace, it's light flickering out.

"I hope you enjoy it here, princess," Isadore snarled, facing her as he stormed to the door and flung it open. "This is your new home."

The Master disappeared, the door slamming behind him. Anna flung herself at the door once more after dashing across the room, horrified. She gave one solid rap on the door with her knuckles before sliding down the cool wood to sit back on the floor. She remembered the necklace she wore and ripped it off, pearls falling to the floor like heavy snowflakes, bouncing away into the shadows. Looking up, Anna could see across from her the portrait Isadore had destroyed.

She could barely see what was left of Basil through her tears.

_

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Sad... sorry for the heartbreaking chapter. I can't help but be melodramatic sometimes! Hope you enjoy! Tell me what you think! Thanks so much for reading; I promise I'll start updating regularly again!_


	18. Formulating Plans

_Hi! Here is an updated chappie! I just love working on this story!_

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Formulating Plans

"Basil, sit down. You're going to make yourself sick."

Dr. Dawson had tried to convince Basil to stop pacing more times than he could count, and knew it was no use saying it again, but the silence, save for the padding of Basil's feet against the stones, was driving the doctor mad.

"Basil, please, you-"

"She is missing, Dr. Dawson!" Basil cried, flinging himself against the door again. "I don't know what that evil fiend is doing to her! I don't know where they took her! I don't know anything right now!"

Dr. Dawson thought carefully. It had been hours since Anna was taken away and Basil had at least given up pounding on the door, instead lapsing into a thoughtful silence, wearing his body down, wasting energy he might need later. Basil looked so sick at the moment, Dr. Dawson noticed, and he was startled to see a trickle of blood coming from one of the numerous wounds Basil had sustained, the silk bandage on his arm turning crimson.

"Now look what you did, Basil," the doctor said quietly, going to his friend and leading him away from the door. He sat the detective down by the remains of the crate and piled straw around Basil to make him comfortable. "If you're not careful, you're going to hurt yourself again. You can't rescue Anna if you're bloodied up again."

"Oh, the princess..." Basil moaned, closing his eyes tightly and leaning his head against the wall behind him. "That monster had better not lay a hand on her. If she is so much scratched, if a nail is broken, if a whisker is so much-"

"Basil, I think she is capable of handling herself. Remember the dagger she has hidden away?"

"Here, in the cell?"

"No, on her, um, person," Dr. Dawson explained, blushing slightly. He knew the princess kept the dagger on her hip under her skirt; he didn't feel the need to explain it to Basil.

"But would she use it, doctor?" Basil asked mournfully, wincing as the bandage ripped off part of the scab that had been forming over the wound he had broken with his movements. "She's so-"

"I think she would, Basil. But, she is a flower, isn't she? A delicate thing."

"No, doctor. Rather, she is like a viper. She isn't the normal young lady to swoon and faint. She is- The princess is-" Basil kept tripping over his words, trying to find one that would fit. He just gave up eventually. "All I know is that, even if she would escape that horrible gargoyle, she couldn't come back for us without getting caught. We need to go and get her. But, the question is, how?"

"I don't know, Basil. Hold still for a moment."

"Even if we did break out, we would still have to get past the ruffians and I bet that awful cat is still around, doctor. We couldn't battle a cat."

Basil, who had let his head fall into his hand as Dr. Dawson fixed the wound once more, looked up slowly, the weariness wearing away, but not entirely. A brilliant idea had just came to him.

"Ol' chap, is there still a way to call Toby?"

"Well, I have the whistle," Dr. Dawson whispered, Basil's idea dawning on him. "I tucked it away in my jacket pocket before we were attacked."

"Good, we're going to need it."

_

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Hehe! Toby to the rescue! I'm happy that I decided to write Toby into the story! He is one of the characters that can do the most (because Basil and the doctor are now in captivity and Anna isn't doing so hot, either...)_

_Thanks for reading and I hope to hear from you! Thanks to everyone who has been sticking to this story, it means so much!_


	19. Revenge For The Dog

_'Ello, everyone! Thanks for being such loyal readers! I really appreciate everything! I never realized how much I had written or how many reviews I had until I slowed down and took a look at my stats. Wow! I want to give each one of you a hug and a special place in the creation of the story! Thank you all! _

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Revenge For The Dog

Toby sniffed around the cobblestones, shaking his head as he accidentally stuck his nose in a puddle. He had been searching for Basil for nearly an hour, and he could hear the footsteps of his master behind him, his assistant calling out his name, wheezing. Toby knew he didn't have very much time left outside and he was getting nowhere on trying to find his other master. The dog ignored his dripping ears and kept sniffing.

All he had gotten was that Basil and Dr. Dawson had been carried away by vermin who smelled curiously like something he had smelled on Basil once before, nearly a year ago when Basil had done battle with the notorious Ratigan. Toby hoped his nose was deceiving him; Toby remembered the smell of that ratty bat, Fidget, and half hoped that Fidget had survived and helped carry away Basil. But Toby knew very well that Fidget had perished in his fall, murdered by his own master, so Basil had told Toby after the adventure had been over with for good. If the scent was stronger and if only it was not about to rain; the scent of the arriving storm was clogging his nose and Toby sneezed several times, trying to clear his nostrils, trying to pick up the scent.

Toby had lost the scent. He couldn't very well back track, for his master was catching up to him; he could hear the rattle of his leash. Toby was frustrated; why would his other master have to go missing? Who would want to get Basil now? The problem with Ratigan was over now and there should be nothing left for the detective to deal with related to that case. Or was there something else Toby wasn't smelling?

Putting his nose to the ground, Toby sniffed deeply and tried to remember what that scent was. It smelled like a cat. Not just any cat, but the pudgy, ill tempered cat he had chased into the pen of the royal guard dogs that night Basil had taken care of Ratigan for good. He had heard rumors that Felicia had escaped, but how could she still be working with the scoundrels? She hated them with all her evil heart, as far as Toby knew. Toby was relieved because he knew where Felicia might be staying, but terrified for his other master because he was now in her claws.

There was a faint whistle from far away, the sharp sound unmistakably the sound of his other master's whistle. Toby listened closely and heard it again, the dog pricking up his ears and narrowing his eyes, trying to hone in on where it was coming from. Wherever Basil was, it was far away, but not so far that Toby couldn't make it there before the sun came up.

Toby yelped when he felt his master's hands grab his collar, and he twisted and pulled and rolled, trying to get away. He had paused to long and his master had caught up with him. There was still time, though, until his leash was put on him. If he could only escape before he-

The click of the clasp made Toby's heart drop.

There was no way to break free now; he had tried many times to snap the latch, to break the leather, but why should this try be any different. He could hear his master's voice reprimanding him for running away, but Toby barely heard him, trying to keep the whistle in his ears, trying to remember where it came from.

He pulled and tugged the entire way home to no avail. Toby was not able to get to Basil that night. As the faithful dog strained to remember exactly where the whistle had come from, he made a resolve.

He would get that cat who had helped carry Basil away.

He would chase her away for good.

Felicia would pay for taking his other master away.

_

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Poor Toby. I promise that the next chapter will be longer; I wanted to keep this one short like I did with the chapter for Felicia, so they sort of match. I try to think artistically when I write a chapter and how that relates to other chapters in terms of detail and length and little things. Thank you so much for reading!_


	20. Reassurance And Tea

_Sorry about the lack of updates on this story... I've been so busy! But, like I've probably said before, you don't want to read excuses, you want to read a story, so here I go!_

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Reassurance And Tea

"If ye don't stop yer squirmin', I'm just gonna poke ya and then wat will the Masta have to say abou' that?"

"I don't care about your Master right now!"

Anna wished she wouldn't have snapped back at the wench as she felt a sharp paw smack her face, leaving a stinging mark behind.

"Don't make me havva fit on ya, girl! Now, ya stand still for Molly and Molly won't have to poke ya with this here needle!"

Molly was an elderly mouse, but still had enough spunk to make Anna nervous of her, and she certainly had quick reflexes. Anna had hardly moved to get away from her and Molly poked her leg sharply with the thick needle she was using to hem the dress Anna was being fitted for.

"I told ya not ta move! I needa get this dress finished ta present it ta the Masta' and I canna do that with you movin' around! Now, stand up straight."

Anna sighed and obeyed. She hated the feel of the dress that was supposed to be her wedding gown. It was almost as if Isadore had stole a dress straight from her closet, for the make and quality of the gown was stunning, but it was an awful fit on her, at least double her size, if not more. Molly had entered her room earlier that morning, loaded with fabric, sewing supplies, and cold wit Anna didn't appreciate.

It had been a long night for the princess. Refusing to sleep on the bed in the far corner of the room, no matter how inviting it seemed, Anna had slept on the couch, letting the warmth of the fire be her blanket. She had been so sick with fear and worry, for both herself and Basil, that her stomach was queasy and her head hurt. She had hardly slept because, every time she would open her eyes, the ruined portrait of Basil was there, causing her to hurt even more. It was a far different night last night, Anna though bitterly as she stood for Molly to finish with the hem, than when she had slept against Basil in the cell. It was awful being in the cell, but at least she could keep an eye on the detective.

Basil. He was the one thing she couldn't stop thinking about, for some reason she hardly wanted to know. She should be thinking of escape, of making a mad dash out the door and running, not even knowing where to go, just running... She should have been thinking of plots to defeat Isadore, to foil his plan of ruling Mousedom. A whole way of life was in her hands, not just for herself, but for everyone who was affected by the plans Isadore had in mind. But, instead of using her skills, she was pining away after someone she knew only through his deeds and the fame they brought him, hardly talking with him for more than a day or two before she was taken away. She couldn't love him. She had other things to do.

"Now, tha' should be done. I havva plan to take in da middle so it don't make you look so fat. I'm gonna show off tha' skinny waist a yours."

Anna let the older mouse take her measurements and tried to fight back the lump that was growing in her throat. She didn't know why she was about to cry, and she knew she shouldn't be crying, but there was no possible way she was going to let this wench see the Princess of Mousedom cry. But, the more she tried to push the lump away, the larger it grew, hurting her throat, causing tears to well in her eyes. Anna looked up and blinked rapidly, trying to control her breathing, but nothing was working. She felt tears part her fur in their way down her cheeks, dripping off her chin, one of them landing on Molly's hand. The wench looked up and frowned.

"Come now, ya shouldn't be cryin'. You're gonna get married in another day and I need ta fix the dress. What's your issue?"

Anna shook her head, not willing to tell the old lady what the problem really was. She hardly knew herself. Molly shook her head.

"Take off da dress and change. I'm gonna start sewing and you're gonna start tellin' me what the problem is."

Anna obeyed, slipping the dress off and changing quickly back into her own tattered outfit. She felt embarrassed now that she realized how awful it was and how Basil had seen her in it, but she knew that part of the dress had gone to help heal his wounds, and that was enough reason to continue wearing it. Molly snatched the dress from off the floor with a disapproving cluck and sat down in a chair, the same chair Isadore had sat in the night before. Anna sat across from her on the couch, bowing her head to wipe away the tears, which seemed to have stopped as suddenly as they had started. Molly looked up at Anna before starting her sewing and sighed.

"Girl, go an' get da bag I brought in. The one by tha' door. I got tea in 'dere and we could both use some."

Anna hesitantly got up and looked through the bag the wench had brought in with her, finding a tin of loose tea leaves and herbs.

"'Dere should be a teapot and some cups around this room; check in da cupboards and everywhere. I fixed de room up before ya came and I remember putting them somewhere."

Anna hung the teapot over the fireplace, which glowed softly with a low flame, after filling it with water. She sat back down across from the older lady and slumped over, looking at the rug without really seeing it.

"Ya know, girl, ya should feel lucky to be marrying a mouse like Isadore. He'll do good."

Anna made no sound and Molly looked up from where she was just starting the cutting.

"Did ya hear me?"

"I did," Anna muttered, sighing. "I just don't feel like talking."

"Well, if ya don't feel like talkin', listen up, then. And don't slouch. Isadore doesn't want a shrunken bride."

Anna obeyed mindlessly and leaned back against the couch, listening to Molly talk.

"Ya see, ya might not wanna marry Isadore now, but you'll come to like it later on. He keeps to 'emself, see, and won't bother ya once he's got what he's wanted. And he just wants your kingdom and not yaself. If he's anything like his fatha, he'll leave ya be when he has da' power."

"Were you Ratigan's wife?" Anna found herself asking, sinking into the inevitable story against her will.

"Gracious, no! Isadore was the result of a night with a serving maid. Part o' the reason I'm the only woman around now. After Ratigan found out abou' his son, he banned women from the group. Except me. I raised the boy after that cat found his mother. Nasty night, that was. Little squalling babe and I was the only one to take care of him."

"But I thought no women were allowed-"

"I was da mother of a boy who followed Ratigan an' did his deeds. I was takin' care o' him and I heard that Ratigan had a little issue on his hands. I offered to take care of the kid and Ratigan thought tha' would be good, I guess."

"How about your son?"

"He's still around. He helped capture tha' detective and the bloke of a docta' the other night. So proud of 'im, I am."

Anna found herself grinding her teeth.

"So, you don't think very highly of Basil of Baker Street?"

"I couldn't care abou' him either way. Whatever Isadore wants ta do with him is none of my business. Waste of fur, if you tell me, but Isadore might have a reason for keeping 'em alive."

"He said that he would be kill- killed after the wedding."

Anna brought herself to say 'killed' and gulped, startled by the teapot going off by the fire, it's high whistle startling Molly, who accidentally cut a hole in the cloth. As she swore, Anna ran for the kettle and poured them each a mug of hot water, grimacing as she realized she was a servant to a wench. Opening the tin, Anna took a handful of tea leaves and put them in each mug, adding a sprig of mint and a bit of dried lemon slice to each. It was strangely relaxing, Anna thought while bringing Molly her tea, to smell the sweet scents the hot water brought from the ingredients. She didn't feel as stressed.

"'Da Masta's gonna get me for dis one," Molly muttered, furious with her mistake. She began to carefully stitch the hole, the stitches so minuscule Anna could hardly tell there was a rip besides the fact she was watching Molly fix it. Molly smiled at Anna briefly as she took her tea and had a sip.

"Ya make good tea, girl."

Anna nodded a thank you as she sat back down on the couch and just breathed into her mug, letting the steam wash over her face, letting the heat dry her tears.

"Ya just remember, girl," Molly said, "You've done well. Nothin' seems as bad as it is, got it? You're lucky to have someone like dat. Don't let 'im scare you; Isadore won't hurt ya."

Anna felt strangely relieved and relaxed, sipping her tea, letting her eyelids close and her body slack into the fabric of the couch. Maybe Molly was right.

_

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There we are! I hope that was a long enough chapter! I just love switching back and forth between long chapters and short chapters; it's just fun, for some odd reason. I wasn't going to make it this long, but I just let my mind run away with me. I don't think Molly isn't going to have a large roll to play; honestly, I just wrote "Molly" on the paper before I had even thought her up, so I decided to roll with it and see where it went. Hehe. I'm also sorry about Molly and her way of speaking. I apologize if that was really hard to read! I'm not used to writing like that!_

_Thank you so much for reading and I hope to update soon! Let me know what you think and thanks again!_


	21. Perfect Dress, Perfect Plan

_Thank you all so much for all the reviews and everything! I just love this story! I'm glad that everyone is enjoying it! I'm sorry if it takes me a little longer to get back to your reviews; I've just been busy and I feel really guilty about not getting back sooner. For some reason, the name Molly rang a bell the other night when I was typing and I was wondering if there was another story with a Molly in it. I just thought it sounded like a really humble and peaceful name, but it still had some spice to it, just like the character. Hehe. I've never worked on an accent like hers before, so I'm sorry if it becomes a little weird. I have fun working on it, though, and actually trying to corrupt my spelling. Gah, my teachers would not be very proud of me, after all their hard work! (Joking, joking...)_

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Perfect Dress, Perfect Plan

"Now, ain't tha' just a perfect dress on 'er? I told ya it would be da perfect thing!"

"Very nice, Molly, very nice," approved The Master, looking Anna up and down. Anna glared and tried to cover her shoulders more with the fabric to no avail. She didn't like Isadore looking at her and she hated the dress. Under any other circumstances, it would have been one of her favorite gowns, but this was to be her wedding dress, and thus she hated it.

"I'm going to change now," Anna said, glancing around the room. They were back in the main hall, where Anna had first seen the true identity of The Master, along with the doctor and the detective. She had been blindfolded as she was lead away from her room to the main hall so she would not know her way around Isadore's lair, but Anna figured she must have been outside at some point, for her shoes were slightly wet.

"No, not yet," Isadore said, sitting down on his large throne and smiling at her, Anna feeling sick just glancing at the evil face. "I like that dress on you."

"Anna, dearie, just come an' sit down 'ere by Molly," the old mouse said, plopping down on one of the steps leading to the throne Isadore was sitting on. Anna walked over, trying to ignore the fact Isadore was looking at her, and was just about to sit next to Molly when her wrist was snatched. She felt herself being pulled closer to Isadore and hit her knees on part of the elaborate chair, feeling her legs turn numb. The Master loomed over her and there was a frown on his face.

"Molly," he barked, "What is the meaning of this?"

Isadore's finger traced the mark where Molly had accidentally cut the fabric of the dress, hardly two inches on Anna's left side. The princess despised the fact he was touching her and yanked away, earning her a shake, for Isadore still had her wrist.

"Tat? Tat's jus' a small mistake, Masta. When I was taken' in da dress, my scissors-"

"You ruined the dress, Molly, and after I had tried so hard to get this one!"

Isadore let go of Anna and stepped off his throne, looming over Molly, who cowered on the floor, unable to find the wits to get up.

"Masta, it's jus' a tiny bit gone! Ah I fixed it and ya can hardly tell 'dere was a cut!"

"I wanted a perfect dress for my perfect wedding! Now it's marred!"

Anna was stunned as Isadore hit Molly across the face, the old woman who had raised him after his own father sent his pet cat after his mother. Horrified as Isadore raised his large paw for another attack, Anna grabbed his arm, pulling him away.

"Don't! Don't hurt her!" Anna yelled, hoping she hadn't just directed the attack on herself. Molly, opening her eyes and seeing Anna holding Isadore back, stood and limped from the room as fast as she could, disappearing into the courtyard.

"What is the meaning of this?" snarled the Master, looking Anna straight in the eyes. "How dare you tell me what to do!"

"I just told you not to hurt her," Anna answered, standing up for herself, letting go of his arm. "You can't hurt her. She did this for you, sewing this dress, and I don't think it would matter if there was a little mistake. This isn't about the wedding, I thought."

"As long as I am getting married, I might as well do things the proper way," Isadore said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a ring. It was beautiful, a huge diamond on top of a golden band, but Anna was loathe to look at it. Isadore grabbed her hand and forced the ring onto her finder to see if it would fit. Unfortunately, it did.

"There, you are my bride and the wedding is tomorrow at the palace. Tomorrow morning, we storm the palace and by tomorrow night, we'll be married," Isadore snarled softly. Anna bit her lip. Tomorrow, she would be his and he would have the power to rule Mousedom.

"What about Basil and the doctor?" she asked tentatively.

"Like I said before, they will executed following the wedding."

"If I were to be a bit more cooperative, could they be spared?"

"Cooperation I already have," Isadore said. "I don't see how there could be much else."

Anna had a hundred ideas in her head, each of them more repulsive than the last, but she didn't say any of them, letting the silence drag on. Isadore laughed.

"Don't think I can be swayed as easily as my father by a woman's charm," he said coldly, signaling to his guards to take her back to her room. "The wedding will commence tomorrow afternoon and tomorrow night, I will have all the power in the world!"

* * *

Anna didn't fight the guards as they took her back to her room, trying to feel her feet under her. The blindfold made it impossible for her to see where she was going, of course; if she could see, she probably would have tried to run for help. They tossed her back in her room, slamming the door behind her. Anna took off her blindfold and whipped it across the room, tearing off the dress. She hated the thing and contemplated throwing it into the fire. But that would destroy it.

A plan was brewing in her head.

Destroying the dress only a little was what she needed.

Looking around the room, Anna saw Molly had left her sewing basket behind and in the basket was a pair of scissors. Tossing on her old ragged dress that she had first met Basil in, Anna took the wedding dress Isadore had found for her and began to raggedly cut at it, snippets of cloth falling around her feet.

_

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Wow, huh? I totally didn't expect Anna to cut her dress up until I got to that spot! I thought, "What is dramatic that I could work off of? What would I do personally if I was in Anna's position?" The answer was "I would cut up the dress!" And that is how the idea was born... just in case you wanted to know!_

Like the title, Perfect Dress, Perfect Plan, the dress wasn't perfect to begin with, so the plan might be flawed! hint hint Why do I do that, give away part of the plot? Hehe...

_Thanks so much for all the really great reviews and thanks for reading! Tell me what you think! Thanks again!_


	22. Making Plans

_Here we are with a new chapter! I thought it would be great to go back and see what Basil and Dr. Dawson are up to. I don't expect this to be a very long chapter, just a chapter to show that they are alive and trying to escape; I want to show how they are feeling right now before I decide what is going to happen to Anna when Isadore finds out about the dress 'accident' and how Toby is going to find Basil and how Felicia is taking all of this... I have so many more chapters to go! Anyway, here it is and I hope you all enjoy!_

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Making Plans 

"Basil, come sit down," Dr. Dawson said. He could swear that he said that once before, or many more times than just once, but the doctor wanted Basil to stop fretting.

"I can't sit down," Basil answered, fitfully pacing the floor, glancing occasionally out the small barred window that looked out into the courtyard. "I am not sitting until I find out how to get out of here."

"Then you're going to be pacing for a very long time," Dr. Dawson snapped, instantly regretting his decision to say that particular thing.

"I mean, it's just- I just-" Dr. Dawson tried to stammer out before giving up, earning a cruel look from Basil. "I'm sorry, Basil. I just hate being here. I want to go home and forget any of this ever happened. I want to forget all about Isadore and Anna and-"

"I refuse to forget about Anna," Basil snarled, kicking at the wooden door. Dr. Dawson sighed.

Basil had been resting until the clatter of the scoundrels could be heard across the courtyard. He and the doctor had both jumped up and looked through the barred window, only to see Anna being led across the courtyard and around a corner, dressed in a beautiful gown, a blindfold across her eyes. Dr. Dawson had made to call out to Anna, but Basil had clamped hand over his mouth, eyes never leaving Anna.

The doctor remembered seeing the gears turn in Basil's eyes as the ruffians led Anna from Isadore's main chambers, where they had all first met Ratigan's successor. Dr. Dawson also remembered seeing the pain in Basil's face as he stared at Anna, the suffering that was in his heart at not being able to do anything for Anna. Basil wanted to save her for another reason besides the fact that she was essential for Isadore's plot:

He loved her.

"Basil, I'm sorry."

"You've already said that."

"I really am. I didn't realize what she meant to you until-"

"She means nothing to me."

"But, Basil, I could tell-"

Dr. Dawson stopped talking after he saw the flicker of pain cross across Basil's face. The detective collapsed and the doctor crept to his side.

"Basil?" Dr. Dawson asked carefully, "Basil?"

"I'm a failure, ol' chap," the detective said mournfully. "I'm going to lose her to that villain and I can't do anything about it. Mousedom will cease to exist as we know it and his evil reign will last forever, all because I couldn't do anything about it."

Dr. Dawson fought the urge to roll his eyes. Basil often sunk into these moods, but never before had it been anything about saving a woman. Basil was laying mournfully on his side, whiskers drooping, fur rumpled.

"Now, you're never going to get anywhere by feeling sorry for yourself," Dr. Dawson said softly. "Remember when you started to loose hope when Ratigan had us in the mousetrap and you saved me and little Olivia?"

Basil nodded, opening his eyes, listening to what his friend had to say.

"Now, the same things are on the line, Basil," Dr. Dawson continued, trying to find the right words. "Mousedom and the life of someone you care about."

"Two people I care about, you mean, Dawson," Basil muttered, a faint smile on his face. "You and Anna. I have to save you both."

Dr. Dawson smiled and tried to cover Basil up with a bit of straw, finding this an opportune moment to get Basil to rest. The detective needed to sleep and heal before he could do anything, much less save a kingdom, a princess, and a friend.

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Isadore sat on this throne, the lamps dimmed. He had been pleased with the dress Anna had worn, and felt the slightest bit guilty for hitting Molly, after all she had done for him. But he was furious that Anna had been able to control him, if only for a few seconds. If she could stop him from doing something now, she could stop him later.

Her hope was not gone, Isadore knew. One of his father's weakest traits had been the fact he didn't break his prisoners mentally before he broke them physically. How can you fight and expect to win with someone who wants to fight back, regardless of their size? Anna had too much spirit to be of any use at the moment. Morning was coming quickly and the plan to invade the castle was only hours away. In less than a day, Isadore would be supreme ruler of Mousedom.

"Felicia!" Isadore called, the ruffians running out the door in fear. Isadore laughed at their foolishness. Felicia would not hurt them unless ordered, although he did not doubt the fact she snacked on the occasional scoundrel without his knowledge.

The fat cat had to stop just outside the door to the chamber; as large as the barrel that served as his grand hall was, Felicia just couldn't fit. Isadore stepped off his throne and sauntered up to the cat, ignoring the yellow gleam of disdain in her eye.

"I want you to assemble the ruffians for tomorrow's attack. And then bring me Basil of Baker Street and his doctor friend. They need to get ready for the wedding, too."

Isadore's evil cackle followed Felicia out into the night, the cat waddling off with a smirk on her face.

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_There we are! Sorry about the shortness of the chapter. You know I'm getting to the good parts, I just need to set up for them. This was a set up chapter! I don't like reading them and feeling like I'm on a cliffhanger, so I apologize to all of you who feel that way! Thanks so much for reading and please tell me what you think! Thanks again! (Insert usual disclaimer here...)_


	23. Finding A Way Out

_Hello, all! I'm sorry for the extreme lack of chapters lately. I've been super busy! Like I wrote in my profile (it's gone now, I think) I was a teacher at a camp for musicians! I have to admit, though, that I was jotting down ideas for this story and other stories I am currently working on! I don't know how long or short the chapters are going to be from now on, but I do see the end in sight, sadly. It won't be for a few more chapters, though! Usually, when I tell my readers that the story is going to be coming to an end, a few people think I mean that the story will be done within one or two chapters. This is not the case! I think that there will be at least five or six more chapters before the end, if not more! This is just a head's up that I have figured out the ending and you will be reading it before long! Hehe..._

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Finding A Way Out

Basil lay in the damp straw, nursing a headache. He had been thinking too hard for too long, and the pacing had not helped, but he was not going to give Dr. Dawson the satisfaction of knowing he was aching. Dr. Dawson himself sat across the cell, sleeping, chin resting on his chest.

In the faint light coming through the bars, Basil wondered how the light was coming in to begin with. There must be a grate going from the streets above to Isadore's lair below, the twilight going through two sets of bars before they reached Basil's eyes. Frustrated with himself for not figuring a way out of the cells, Basil scratched the tips of his paws across the floor absentmindedly. He wondered what evils Anna was beating away at that moment, besides Isadore himself. In anger, the detective clawed harder at the floor, wincing in slight pain as a nail caught on the edge of a loose stone.

A loose stone?

Basil looked closer, intent, all of his exhaustion banished for the moment. If he worked at it, he could pull the loose stone from the floor. The whole cell was made of large stones, some of them already missing from the walls. What if there was a way out through the floor? Basil hit himself in the forehead for not thinking of this sooner, causing his headache to reappear. Snarling to himself, Basil lay over the cold paver, pressing his ear to the ground as he rapped sharply with his knuckles. The detective ignored the sharp pain in his knuckles as he did it again, trying to hear the echo beneath him. Finally, after several attempts, Basil heard what he was looking for; he simply had not pounded on the paver hard enough to hear the echo the first time.

Jumping on the paver until it broke through was a poor plan; not only would it break the stone, causing a terrible noise and possibly alerting the guards, it would cause Basil to fall into the hole beneath it, the detective not knowing how far he would fall before hitting the ground. Besides, he didn't know what was down there. Yet.

Grasping the edge of the stone as best he could, Basil pulled and rocked the paver back and forth as best he could, using all his strength. Within minutes, the stone was out of place and Basil could see into the hole. It seemed the floor was supported by wooden and steel beams, the wood keeping the stones and cement several feet above the watery bottom. The wood was in turn supported by metal rods that ran across the wood length ways and stuck into the stone walls on either side, providing a stable surface above. Basil had simply found a loose stone over where some of the wood supports had rotted away. If he moved several more stones, he could make a wide enough opening to slip through.

After waking the doctor, Basil set to work like a demon, knowing this could be his chance to escape and find help.

And his one chance to find Anna before it was too late.

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Sitting among the rags of her ruined wedding dress, wearing the rags of her silk dress, Anna nursed her wounds as best she could. Anna couldn't see the bruises yet, but knew they would be there soon enough; she could certainly feel them. She had been slightly cut by the rings on Isadore's fingers, the rough edges of the metal slicing her as he had struck her again and again.

He had come into the room to find Anna destroying the last bit of dress, her face triumphant as well as terrified. Anna did not know why Isadore had come to her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Maybe cutting the dress proved a distraction from Isadore's original intentions, but Anna could hardly think through the haze of pain. He had beat her, and Anna had not uttered a sound the entire time, voiding Isadore of any real pleasure in hurting her. Isadore was furious she had destroyed the dress, and, after hitting her, he had stormed off, slamming the door so hard behind him Anna thought the hinges would break.

Molly had not been to check on her, but Anna could her the guards outside her door, playing some sort of rowdy came of cards. The princess could not even have a bit of quiet, and she knew that Molly was not coming to help her. Helplessly, Anna lay on the floor, too tired to sit up any longer, staring into the fire, hoping Basil was better off than she was.

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_There we are! I see such a great chapter coming up! I might just write it right now and post it later, or something, because I see Basil and Anna in the next chapter! Hehe... Beware, though, because it seems like it's going to be full of heartbreaking angst (maybe not that bad, but for sure some sappy love stuff going on...) and I just can't wait to write it! Gotta run, but thanks so much for reading and please tell me what you think about it! Thanks!_


	24. Misplaced Anger

_Hi there! Sorry again about the delay in chapters! This is my boredom story and I haven't been really bored lately! I'm actually so busy that the only time I get to think of this story is when I am getting ready to fall asleep! Haha! Since I found a day off, I decided that I wouldn't keep my readers waiting for so long and I would update this story! Hehe..._

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Misplaced Anger

Anna was startled as she heard a knocking on the floor under her bed. She had been half asleep, the sort of sleep one has when they know danger is lurking, but too exhausted to continue worrying about it. Anna had forced herself to sleep in the bed, the couch too cold for her to do anything but shiver, the fire in the hearth dim.

Jumping out of the bed and grabbing the poker from the fireplace, Anna crept back and carefully lifted the dust ruffle with the long iron rod, peering under the bed cautiously. There was nothing under the bed but a rug. Odd, that a rug would be placed under the bed, where no one could see it, but Anna supposed it was there to keep the chill from the floor from going too far and getting under the blankets. As the rattle came once again, the pounding that had woke her up, Anna jumped back from the bed, almost dropping the poker. She thought about alerting the guards, but knew they would do nothing for her; even if she could rouse them from their drunken slumber outside her door, they were not bodyguards and would most likely run away, cowardly.

Anna lay on her stomach once more, taking the poker and lifting the dust cover up again. She was shocked as a lump started to rise under the rug, growing bigger until the rug was almost completely off the ground, a large bump in the middle. Anna, frightened, hit the lump with the poker, and was even more startled to hear the lump cry out.

She knew that voice.

"Basil?" she asked softly, "Basil?"

Anna grabbed a corner of the rug and pulled, showing an opening trapdoor and a very angry mouse with a bump on his head.

"Basil, you're here! How did you get out?"

Anna grabbed Basil's arm and tried to help him out of the trapdoor, the narrow space between the bed and the floor proving difficult to manage. Within a minute, however, Basil crept out from under the bed, nearly soaking wet, rubbing his head.

"What did you hit me with?"

Anna showed him the fireplace poker and Basil shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs that seemed to instantly form in his mind.

"I'm sorry," Anna said, "I thought you might be- Well, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't expecting you!"

The two stood there for several seconds before Anna lost control and clung to Basil's neck, nearing tears.

"Oh, Basil, I've missed you so much! I know I've only been here a day or two, but I've missed you! I'm so sorry I hit you! Please forgive me!"

"Princess," Basil said, throughly uncomfortable with her hanging on him, "I forgive you if you just get off!"

Anna let go and bit her lip. She had been an idiot to lose control like that, to throw herself at him like a child. Anna dropped the poker by the fireplace and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just- I wasn't expecting you here. I thought that the next time I would see you would be at the wedding."

"Wedding?" Basil asked, before realizing Isadore's plans were indeed to marry her. "Oh, that's right."

"It's not an issue, detective?" Anna asked bitterly, kicking at a scrap of fabric on the floor, furious. "Why are you here? How did you get out? Did you come here just to pester me or to rescue me?"

"Anna, listen to me," Basil said, frowning. "I've hardly had a chance to get a word in edgewise and you're already angry with me. I'm here to show you I've escaped and to see how you were doing."

"But not to rescue me?"

"No, not to rescue you."

"Why?"

Basil was growing frustrated as Anna sat on the couch, tossing more bits of fabric from the furniture. The detective walked across the room and stood next to the couch, frowning.

"Anna, I don't think you realize that, if Isadore finds you missing, then it's all ruined."

"What's ruined?" Anna snapped, "Your brilliant plan for fame? It doesn't matter that, in a few hours, I'm going to be the wife of an evil genius who is going to destroy Mousedom? It doesn't matter that I'm here, so pleased to see you, and you're only complaining?"

"You're complaining, too."

"Now I am."

The two sighed at the same time and Basil looked around at the bits of cloth, puzzled. Basil reached down and picked up several scraps of cloth, twirling the fine fabric between his fingers.

"What happened? With the fabric?"

"You don't know? You, the best detective who has ever lived? Supposedly," Anna said, adding the last part under her breath, bitter. "Isadore was furious with me."

"It- It's the fabric..." Basil thought out loud, trying to think through the haze in his head. "It's the fabric from your wedding dress."

"Bravo," Anna answered, sarcasm not lost on Basil.

"Anna," the detective said, sitting next to her, ignoring the aloofness the princess had with him. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't have stopped all this earlier. I just figured a way out hardly an hour ago, my only thoughts of coming here and finding you safe, and here I find you beaten, angry, and hardly tolerant of me. I couldn't find a way out any sooner."

Anna ignored him and Basil looked around the room, noticing the ruined picture of him on the wall. He never knew that Isadore's father, his old archenemy, had such a brilliant painting of him. Basil had always thought Ratigan had no respect for him whatsoever, that Basil himself was the only valiant one in the never ending battle with Ratigan. Basil himself still had Ratigan's painting on his wall, something to help him remember his most famous battle, no matter how difficult any other case was.

"I'm mad that you didn't come sooner," Anna answered, "But I understand, too."

"I'm glad," Basil said, suddenly tired, so very tired.

"And I understand why you can't take me away," Anna added, still biting her lip, whether from anger or to keep back tears Basil didn't know.

"I'm glad," Basil repeated, sighing.

"Is that all you have to say? 'I'm glad' is the only thing you know what to say?"

"It's all I have to say for now, yes," Basil answered. "I can't tell you anything else. And you can't say anything to anyone that I was here. If Isadore knows that there is a way to get from here to the cells, he's going to forget about inviting me to the wedding and kill me straight away. Ratigan probably never told his son half the secrets his lair hides. Maybe Ratigan himself never knew."

"How long can you stay?"

"Just a few more minutes. If someone comes to the cell and finds me missing, you can imagine the chaos. I just came to see you."

Anna smiled half heartedly and was surprised to find herself exhausted once more, the sudden burst of energy taking what was left of her strength.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but could you stay until I've fallen asleep?"

Basil looked to Anna and raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know," she said, instantly regretting her request. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright. I'll stay."

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_So, if you don't like sappiness, you should have stayed away from this chapter. I'm getting really tired of this story, to tell you the truth, so I'm thinking that I'm going to let it go for another week or two and then start writing again. I just can't see the color in it anymore, so I need to take a break. If this is the sort of chapter I write when I'm tired with the story, I think I need a rest! Hehe... Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll update in a few weeks, maybe sooner. _


	25. The Way Storybooks End

_Wow, it's been such a long time since I updated this story! Things have gotten so crazy since school started, I'm not able to find time to write anymore! I just love this story, but like I've said before, I work on this story when I'm bored, and I haven't had time to be bored lately! I'm sorry for keeping all you faithful readers waiting for so long, my apologies, and I hope I can pick up where I left off and continue on with this fun adventure! Thank you!_

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The Way Storybooks End

Anna woke to the sounds of the large doors to her room opening and a rough hand grabbing her arm. Startled, she was pulled off the couch where she slept, curled up in a tight ball, hitting the floor with a thud. Twisting to her feet, Anna felt the urge to sleep vanish and panic took it's place.

"Basil is missing!"

Isadore's voice boomed in her ear and his hand tightened on her arm in a painful clench, his nails digging through her fur and into her skin. Anna frowned, confused.

"What do you mean, he's missing?"

"HE'S GONE!"

Isadore threw Anna from him and paced the room, Anna picking herself up off the ground and grinding her teeth. It was becoming very old, this lack of emotional restraint on his part, and she doubted she would let him get near enough to her again to hurt her.

Basil. What was he saying about Basil? Missing?

"You wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you?" Isadore snarled, his feet thudding on the floor, nails clicking, whiskers shaking in fury.

"No, I wouldn't," Anna said, her tongue refusing to move after she realized what had happened the previous night. Basil had come to visit her!

Anna had drifted off to sleep, Basil keeping a watch over her. She had argued with him, like the stubborn fool she was. He had fought with her, too, his arrogance annoying her. She had wanted to hug him tight, to never let him go, because he was there for her at a moment when she needed him most.

He was going to rescue her!

"I think you do, Anna," Isadore sneered, seeing the flicker of surprise and secrets in her eye before she could suppress them. "I think he was here last night, in this room."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, the urge to laugh while Isadore ran around the room tapping on walls fighting with the fear that took her breath away. Isadore wasn't a fool and he was right about Basil being there the previous night, but Anna didn't think think he knew about the secret trapdoor under the bed, hidden by the rug. She hoped he didn't, for Basil's sake as much as hers.

"What about the doctor?" Anna asked, chin in the air as Isadore gave up tapping on the walls for hollow spots and began pacing the floor again. Every time he walked past the bed, where the trapdoor was, Anna felt faint.

"Still here," Isadore snarled. "That rotten excuse of a detective left his own partner behind, his best friend. How much lower can a mouse sink?"

"May I ask how Basil escaped?"

"He sneaked out of this room and out of the palace, passing by my guards," Isadore said, Anna snorting lightly as Isadore called his poor excuse for a dwelling an actual palace.

"No matter," the rat continued, "The wedding will go as planned. Molly is here with a new dress for you and we will be leaving soon. I am short one wedding guest, but that will be one less distraction for you."

Isadore grabbed Anna's hand and bowed over it, the princess revolted by this gesture.

"In a matter of hours, princess, we will rule Mousedom," he said as he left the room, pausing in the doorway. "We will track down that detective and destroy him as he destroyed my father. We will live as they say in storybooks, Anna! We will live happily ever after!"

Anna shuddered as his laugher rang in her ears, the doors slamming behind him. She sat still on the couch until Molly came, bringing a new dress, a white one with lace. Anna said not a word to her only companion, obeying as Molly ordered her to stand and turn and hold still as the dress was perfected.

"Now ya beeter not ruin dis one, girl," Molly said, her accent unusually thick as her voice softened. "Masta wassan't happy about wat ya did with da last one. Even if ya hate it, ya only havta wear it once."

"Once is one time too many," were the only words the princess spoke, preoccupied with her own thoughts to carry on a conversation, no matter how nice Molly was being.

She thought of Basil and wished he would have told her more of his plan.

She wished him the best of luck and a speedy journey, hoping he was already at the palace, waiting to rescue her from the slimy clutches of Isadore's claws.

After all, wasn't _that_ the way most storybooks ended?

_

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Sorry about the short chapter, guys! I just wanted to put the story back on the map before the ending a few chapters from now! Don't worry, you'll find out how Basil escaped, why Dr. Dawson was left behind, and how (if, I mean) Anna escapes from Isadore! Hehe... Thank you so much for reading and please leave me a comment or a review!_


	26. The End And Epilouge

_Hello! Thank you, everyone, who has been a part of this story and all of you who have reviewed: Meadowlark4491, KellyR, Pepper Keibu, lifeismusicplayitLOUDER, Anastasia Basil, Chibbiconfettiqueen, sunnydaysmiles, crazeedragon, Yoda's Padawan, and The Mouse Avenger!!! You've all been so great and it was an honor writing something that you all enjoyed! Thanks for all the encouragement (Anastasia Basil, I'm sorry I never got back to your invitation to RP; I feel so rude and need to apologize!!!) After thinking about this story and realizing I hadn't done anything with it for months, I decided this chapter was going to be the end. Very sad... _

_Thank you, everyone, and here you are: the last chapter of A New Case, A New Cause!_

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**The End**

Basil sat in the balcony, disguised and cloaked. He stood behind several other mice that had come to watch their kingdom snatched by an evil rat through the marriage ceremony of their princess. They were so lost in their grief that, even if they had noticed Basil behind them, they wouldn't have recognized him as the great detective who had saved them all from Ratigan.

The detective felt alone, no Dr. Dawson by his side, and felt bad for leaving his good friend behind in the prison Isadore had kept them in for so long, but knew it was all part of the plan. As for his loneliness, there was no way to help that. He had an important task to do and feeling sorry for himself was not a good start.

Early in the morning, after Basil had escaped the prison, Isadore had stormed the palace, sending out announcements that the entire population of mice in all of London were invited for the marriage ceremony between himself and their princess. Anna had been a part of the twisted processional to the castle after Isadore and his thugs overtook the palace guard. Sitting on Felicia's fat back, Anna was bound and gagged, only able to shoot nasty looks at the escorts Isadore had provided for her and give fleeting glances for help out to the crowd of mice who watched their princess go by. They hung their heads and held their hats in their hands, unable to even make eye contact with Anna lest one of the thugs who were making sure Anna got to the palace hit them. The sun had not yet risen as Basil followed the processional, every footfall matching every beat of his heart as he looked at Anna from afar. She looked so tired, so worn... She didn't look strong enough to cook a meal, much less fight off Isadore's thugs.

Basil remained disguised as he joined the crowd of mice in the castle, making his way to the balcony as to get a better look at the villain taking over Mousedom. He had found an old, discarded umbrella in an alleyway on his way to the castle and held it now in his paws, thinking very hard. If he could use the spring inside the umbrella to launch him off the balcony, just far enough to reach the chandelier, he could cut lose the cord from the ceiling and ride the chandelier to the ground, almost directly in front of where Isadore was standing at the moment, a sneer on his greasy rat face. Once surprised, he could grab Anna and, if it all worked out the way Basil planned it, he would escape with Anna while the police arrived with Toby and Dr. Dawson to take Isadore to jail.

Music rose up from the ensemble of musicians in front of the crowd, the notes shaking like the performers as the thugs stood on guard nearby, looking as ominous as a smelly ruffian could. Basil peered over the heads of the mice in front of him and looked down to see Anna, still bound and gagged, being escorted through the crowd by Molly, her maid. Molly had a hand on Anna's arm, pulling her along as the crowd parted for them. When Anna arrived in front of Isadore, Molly took her place in the front of the mob of spectators. A ruffian stood behind Anna, making sure she didn't run off, and Isadore smirked as he took her paws in his own.

It make Basil sick to watch, but he couldn't look away. The timing had to be just right and, to do that, he would have to keep his eyes peeled. Toby and Dawson were to arrive with the police any moment and, when they did, he would swoop in for Anna. But, the whistle, high and sharp, the unmistakable sign Dawson was supposed to give when he arrived, never came. Minutes upon minutes passed, Basil growing more and more restless. The reverend mouse stood in front of Isadore and Anna, reciting the words of a typical marriage ceremony, obviously uncomfortable with binding the two together in a marriage that was being made for Isadore's greed for power.

"Do you, Isadore, take Princess Anna to be your-"

"I do," Isadore snapped, becoming just as impatient as Basil.

"And do you, Princess Anna-"

Anna shook her head furiously, unable to speak because of the gag, but Isadore grabbed her shoulders and stopped her.

"She does," he said, his voice booming, causing the audience to flinch.

"If anyone has any objection-" the reverend mouse spoke again, and Basil saw his chance.

"I do!" Basil cried, using his umbrella to help him jump to the chandelier and cutting all but one of the ropes holding the lights up. The rope he didn't cut pulled and strained, ripping through the ceiling as the chandelier swept through the air to land, as planned, in front of Anna and Isadore.

"Will you all stop interrupting me?" the reverend cried, slamming his book shut and jumping out of the way as bits of the glass chandelier flew everywhere.

Basil turned and hit the ruffian that was poised to strike him with a club and the audience that had not started to flee the castle yet attacked whatever thugs they could. They now realized that Basil, London's hero, had come to save the day. However, the chandelier had candles that had toppled over onto the rugs of the palace's great hall and flames were rising. Through the growing heat and smoke, Basil beat off the last ruffian and saw Anna. The fumes were choking her and she already couldn't breathe well because of the gag over her mouth. Basil ran to her and Anna's eyes lit up for a brief moment before they closed and she collapsed. Kneeling by her side, Basil ripped off the gag and, as he tried to shake her awake, realized that she had been hit in the back of the head. Looking up at the shadow that loomed over him, Basil looked straight into the eyes of Isadore himself, the great rat raising a club to swipe at the detective. Rolling to the side and dashing through the flames, Basil took a decorative sword off the wall of the great hall. It wasn't sharp and ridiculously heavy, but it would work well enough to fend off Isadore. Basil blocked Isadore's swipe and, dancing away from the ever growing flames, Basil fought Isadore.

"You're defeated," Basil said, jumping out of the way as Isadore, crazed with anger, swept at him with the club. "You can't marry Anna and you're not taking over Mousedom!"

"I might not be married yet, but I can still take over Mousedom," Isadore snapped back, turning his back on Basil and running to stand over Anna, who was laying groggily on the floor. Picking her up and making her stand against him, Isadore held the club over her head. "If you leave now, I can still get married and become King of Mousedom. If you take even one step toward me, she goes."

"But that would be the end of your master plan," Basil said, "No princess, no wedding."

"Sometimes it's not all about me, Basil," Isadore sneered, "It's about making you suffer. And this will make you suffer!"

As Isadore raised the club higher, ready to drop it on Anna, the princess found enough strength to elbow him in the gut, causing Isadore to stumble backwards in surprise. Through the crackle of flames and sounds of fighting, a high whistle pierced the air. Toby and Dawson had arrived!

The dog bounded through the flames, taking care not to step on anyone but thugs, and let Dawson slide off his back, along with a dozen policemice, another several dozen constables behind them, already rounding up ruffians. In one gulp, Toby swallowed Isadore, grimacing and burping. Dawson helped put out the flames as the policemice took thugs away. Basil ran to Anna, who stood alone, looking rather confused. The soot from the fire had stained her dress and her face, but Basil, remembering the time he had first seen her, looking so raged in the prison Isadore had thrown them in, smiled at her and held her close.

"Anna, I'm so sorry... Really, I am," he said softly.

"You rescued me, Basil, it's done and over with," she answered back, holding the shaking Basil closer. Both of the mice were ragged and exhausted and shaking, but knew this was the beginning instead of the end of their adventure.

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**Epilogue**

That same day, policemice found what looked to be the remains of Isadore's wedding jacket and several of fur. Toby seemed ill for several hours after the rescue of Anna but looked much better just minutes before the policemice found Isadore's remains. Felicia was ran out of town by the neighborhood dogs, who let her know that, if she was seen in London again, very bad things would happen to her. The last Dawson heard was that Felicia had found a home in the country and had changed from the evil, wicked beast they knew her as and into a healthy, contented house pet for the rest of her days. Toby returned to his residence, living with Mr. Holmes and completely happy when Basil took him out for walks, which was often.

There was an eventual wedding, just not the sort Isadore wanted. Anna and Basil celebrated their wedding several months after Isadore's plan had failed and, after becoming King and Queen of Mousedom, the happy couple invited Dr. Dawson, the cook, and Molly to live in the palace with them. Molly was as good of a caretaker as she was a storyteller and, between herself and Dr. Dawson, told such good tales that mice from all over London gathered in the great hall (which had been fully restored following the battle between Isadore and Basil) just to hear their favorite stories told over and over again. As for Basil, he continued sleuthing, never seeming to grow any older as he solved many famous mysteries. Anna had three beautiful children, all of which had their mother's spirit and their father's genius.

And, as they say at the end of stories like these, they lived happy ever after.

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_I felt that, even though the ending was cheesy, they deserved it. _

Thank you, everyone!!!!!!!


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